


Venus

by starlight_sugar



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Bacta/Lyn if you squint, Multi, Pliff/Jane/Hessa if you squint even more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-23 14:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_sugar/pseuds/starlight_sugar
Summary: “What’s the final countdown?” Tryst snorts. “Geez, kid, it’s like it’s your first national tour or something.” (A Campaign rock band AU.)





	1. Albuquerque

**Author's Note:**

> With all my love to Lily, who introduced me to the show; Aneurin and Jason, who talked to me about the show; and Tam, who let me yell at them about the show and the fic without complaint.
> 
> This is a modern human AU. I took some timeline liberties that'll hopefully make sense.
> 
> As a warning: this fic includes canon-compliant character deaths, and they're referenced throughout the story.

**SATURDAY**

 

**Dallas, TX**

 

Loading the tour bus is an art. Or a science, depending who you ask. But Tryst prefers to think of it as an art, the kind that can be practiced but never truly mastered. He likes his bus-loadings to be abstract. Keeps things fresh.

When he tells Lyn, she gives him a sour look, and not the joking kind of sour, either. “You are the reason we almost left Bacta’s cymbals in Nashville.”

“No,” Tryst says, because he’s not. “If it had happened, I would’ve been the reason. The way I see it, you and Leenik are the reason they  _ didn’t _ get left behind. No harm, no foul.”

“Do we need a new rule about this? Do we need to forbid you from bus-loading?”

“You couldn’t stop me from bus-loading if you tried.”

Lyn shakes her head. “We will find a way if we have to.”

“During the final countdown, Lyn? Really?”

Pliff, loading an amp onto their truck, glances over at them. “What’s the final countdown?”

“What’s the final countdown?” Tryst snorts. “Geez, kid, it’s like it’s your first national tour or something.”

Pliff must be getting used to them, because he doesn’t rise to the bait. He just sets the amp down and stares. Tryst is, despite himself, kind of proud. “It’s the last five shows. As of right now, we only have five more shows, and then this whole shebang is over.”

“How is it already the final countdown?” Lyn murmurs. Tryst glances at her, and she shrugs. “It was a fast few weeks.”

“A fast few weeks,” Tryst repeats. “Like that’s a thing? It’s been a few weeks, we just happen to have been on a national tour. No such thing as an extra-fast few weeks.”

“It feels fast when the days blend together. The cities all start feeling the same.”

“So you’re saying it’s too monotonous?”

“That’s a big word,” Lyn says, so dryly that Tryst can’t even be offended. “Yes, I am saying that, Tryst.”

“You know what would spice it up a bit?”

Lyn sighs. “What?”

Tryst grins. “The Tryst Valentine school of loading tour buses. Where you just cram things in and hope they fit.”

“Tryst,” Bacta says, and it could be strained because he’s in the process of arranging equipment in the truck, but Tryst likes to think that it’s because of him. “If you’re going to stand around, go be helpful and stand around with either Neemo or Leenik.”

“Lyn’s standing around too,” Tryst complains, even though he can see her clipboard checklist. That’s a new rule that she put into place after the Nashville debacle.

“Neemo or Leenik,” Bacta repeats, and turns back to Pliff.

Tryst sighs. Neemo duty means Tamlin duty, which would be fun, but with Neemo there it’s  _ way _ less fun. “Where’d Leenik go?”

“Front of the station,” Lyn says, and looks down at her clipboard in the unmistakable signal for “go away, Tryst.”

So Tryst wanders over to the front of the radio station building, where Leenik is talking to a small gaggle of teenagers. He looks totally comfortable, too, which is nearly revolutionary for Leenik. He looks like he’s carrying on a normal conversation - one that comes to an abrupt halt as the teens catch sight of Tryst approaching and go silent.

“Wait, I know this,” Leenik says without turning around. “It’s either Tamlin or Tryst, right? But you’d be saying aw if it were Tamlin, so-”

Tryst drops an elbow onto Leenik’s shoulder. “You’re getting good at this, you know.”

“At knowing when you’re there?” Leenik gives him a strange look. “How long have I known you?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

“Isn’t it like seven years?” one of the teens says, which, that’s weird. That’s too weird for Tryst.

Leenik doesn’t seem bothered, though, just snaps his fingers. “Seven years! That’s right, thanks. That’s long enough to develop Tryst radar.”

Tryst grins. “Aw, you like it when I’m around.”

“Seven years,” Leenik says, with an even stranger look. “All these nice people seem to understand that, why don’t you?”

“I’ve never understood anything in my life.” A couple of the teenagers laugh, and Tryst grins. “That’s why I didn’t go to college.”

“Oh, that’s why,” Leenik mutters.

“Hey, you didn’t either,” Tryst points out. “All the parents love that, I bet. The big popular rock band of drop-outs, and also a professor.”

Most of the teens nod in agreement. “You guys are too cool for school,” one girl says, and a couple of the others titter.

“Have you ever considered going back?” one boy asks. “I mean, not that you have to, but-”

“Nah,” Tryst says, and that’s supposed to be the end of it. Door closed, conversation over.

Except then Leenik says, “I’m thinking about it, actually,” and the door is blown wide open again.

“Really,” Tryst says, and he’s not sure if he means it as a question or as general disbelief, but whichever one Leenik hears is the wrong one, because he finally shrugs Tryst’s elbow off his shoulder. Tryst decides not to let it throw him off his game. “Have you talked to Lyn about it?”

“Not yet,” Leenik says, voice clipped. “It’s kind of a big decision, you know?”

“Tell me about it,” one of the teenagers mutters, and the others all make noises like they agree.

Tryst’s phone buzzes, and thankfully, Leenik’s does too, which definitely means it’s Bacta’s regular time-to-go text. He claps his hands together. “Folks, it’s been a pleasure, but we need to be on our way, so if you want selfies we’re gonna need an orderly line-”

The teenagers actually form an orderly line. Tryst is, despite himself, totally bemused.

He manages to wait until he and Leenik are in the parking lot in the back of the station, far out of teenage earshot, before he says, casually, “So, college, huh?”

Leenik’s shoulders hunch over. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“We don’t have to not talk about it, either, that’s just-”

“No, Tryst, I’m saying I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you just brought it up with a bunch of strangers.”

“And that’s all the talking about it I’m doing.” Leenik climbs on the bus, and Tryst narrowly avoids sighing at him. Leenik doesn’t always handle sighing well.

Tamlin, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the bus, looks up at them with all the seriousness that only a kid can muster. “Uncle Leenik, Uncle Tryst.”

“Nephew Tamlin,” Leenik says, equally serious.

Tamlin visibly brightens for a second before going back to his serious look. “Neemo and I were looking at a map of where we’re driving today, and we’re going to be really close to Oklahoma.”

“Oklahoma, okay,” Tryst says, and for some reason Leenik rolls his eyes. “What?”

“The musical?”

“What musical?”

“I’ve never been to Oklahoma before,” Tamlin says, and when Tryst looks back at him he’s gone from dead serious to hangdog, oh god. “Uncle Tryst, you’re driving, can we stop for lunch in Oklahoma?”

Tryst taps his chin. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“What does Uncle Bacta say?”

“Uncle Bacta said we could.” Tamlin’s lower lip juts out further and god _ damn _ that’s cute. “Please, Uncle Tryst?”

Tryst looks to the back of the bus. “Can we get confirmation on Bacta being fine with it?”

“He’s fine with it,” Lyn says, without looking up from whatever boring book she’s reading.

Tryst grins. “Oklahoma it is. Where do you want to go?”

“I would like to go to Tulsa,” Tamlin says seriously.

“Not Tulsa,” Neemo says quickly. “That’s not on the way.”

Tamlin frowns. “What’s on the way?”

“We can find out when we get there,” Tryst decides. “Everyone ready, get buckled up, we’re about to go on the road!”

Lyn clears her throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“No, I said to buckle up.”

“Bacta’s not on the bus.”

Tryst glances around. Bacta is, indeed, not on the tour bus. “Where is he?”

“Talking to the hosts of the radio show and thanking them for coming in on a weekend.”

“He can get an Uber, right?”

Tamlin huffs out a laugh. “An Uber to Oklahoma?”

“That’s kind of a good name for a book,” Neemo says thoughtfully. Leenik’s eyes go all wide and starry.

Tamlin frowns. “Are you sure about that?”

Lyn snorts into her book. Tryst grins. “Good one, buddy. But seriously, go buckle up, we’re heading out in five.”

 

#

 

**The Mynock** @themynockband

Tamlin update: we’ve agreed to stop in Oklahoma for lunch so he’s telling his lizards stories about Oklahoma over Skype

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

“...and there’s gonna be corn! We might not see it, but it’s gonna be there!”

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

(disclaimer: Lyn is the only band member who’s been to Oklahoma before, and that was for some nerd conference so it doesn’t count -LG)

**Lyntel Luroon** @lluroon   
Replying to @themynockband

Archaeology conference, Leenik, please.

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @lluroon

sorry Lyn, Tryst made me say nerd conference and he doesn’t have Twitter so he can’t defend himself -LG

 

#

 

**Lawton, OK**

 

“Oklahoma looks a lot like Texas,” Tamlin says. “What’s the difference?”

“Eat your chicken nuggets, buddy,” Bacta says patiently. “The difference is we’re in another state now.”

“But what makes it a different state?”

“The government said it was different.”

Tamlin frowns. “Why’s it different?”

“I think that’s a question for our college girl.” Tryst raises his eyebrows at Lyn, who glares at him. “Professor Luroon?”

“I studied archaeology in another country, I certainly don’t know Oklahoma history.”

“None of us are exactly good American students,” Bacta admits, casting a look around the McDonald’s where they’ve stopped for lunch. Tryst looks around too: Pliff, Jane, and Hessa are all clustered at a nearby table, and Neemo and Leenik are off talking about a book or something. “Your Uncle Lyn is the only one who went to college.”

“Pliff and Jane are going to college,” Tamlin says plaintively. “But they’re in the other bus so I can’t ask them about it. And Neemo went to college for writing, not history.”

“Maybe Leenik will study history,” Tryst says, and reaches for Bacta’s fries. Bacta, of course, swats his hand away, so Tryst has to settle for his own fries, like some kind of not-rock-star.

“Leenik?” Lyn repeats, looking confused. “Why would he study history?”

“When he starts undergrad,” Tryst says, and then, “Oh, shit.” Because Lyn looks thunderstruck, and Bacta looks like he did that time Tamlin dyed part of Tryst’s hair green, and Tamlin looks confused. And Leenik definitely, definitely didn’t want any of them to know about this. “I mean, hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically?” Tamlin frowns. “That’s a big word. And suspicious.”

Tryst shakes his head. “Okay, can we stop being surprised when I know words with more than three syllables? And can we forget that I said that last thing?”

“Is-” Bacta’s eyes flick over to Leenik, and he lowers his voice. “Is he applying for college?”

“I don’t know.” Bacta’s gaze sharpens, and Tryst lifts his hands. “No, really, he mentioned it once, on accident, literally this morning. I don’t think any of us are supposed to know.”

“I could ask him about it,” Lyn says, looking tentative. “Or wait for him to ask me?”

Bacta frowns. “Maybe that second one. He might not be happy knowing that we know about it.”

“It was an honest mistake,” Tryst hisses, because it  _ was. _ “We can work this out later, it’s time for us to get back on the road.”

“What’s the point of college?” Tamlin asks, loud enough that a couple of other people in the McDonald’s look over at them. “Uncle Lyn’s the only one who went.”

“Your mom went to college too,” Bacta points out gently.

“And so did Aunt Aava,” Tryst says, and ignores the vicious glare that Bacta shoots at him. Like Tryst can’t talk about his own girlfriend. Please.

Tamlin frowns. “Is it a good thing?”

“It is if you want more education,” Lyn says firmly. “Uncle Tryst is right, it’s time for us to leave. And we’re not going to tell Uncle Leenik that we know about college, okay?”

“Okay.” Tamlin nods solemnly. “But we need to not tell Uncle Tryst any secrets.”

Tryst points at Tamlin. “That is completely correct. Don’t tell me anything you don’t want other people to find out at some point.”

Bacta rolls his eyes. “You are an excellent role model.”

“Hey, I don’t have to be, I’m not a godfather.” Tryst nudges Bacta, who rolls his eyes again. “Tama, you ready to get out of Oklahoma?”

Tamlin’s face falls. “But we didn’t even get to a part that was different than Texas!”

“All of Oklahoma is different from Texas, because it’s Oklahoma.”

“But it looks the same!”

“It’s different if you look in your heart.”

Tamlin pauses, probably looking in his heart to see if he can find the difference between Texas and Oklahoma, and then squints at Tryst. “Are you sure?”

“Mostly.” Tryst gets to his feet. “Come on, it’s three hours to our next stop, everyone stretch your legs.”

 

#

 

Lyn spends at least half of the next leg of their drive sitting next to Leenik, with their heads close together, talking way too quietly for Tryst to hear from the driver’s seat. He definitely doesn’t keep looking in the back of the bus to see if they’re still talking.

Listen, it’s just… Leenik gets weird about secrets sometimes, like that time he adopted a pit bull and didn’t tell anybody for a month. Tryst’s not sure who he talks to about these things, but Lyn seems like a good choice. Better than Tryst. Maybe.

 

#

 

**Amarillo, TX**

 

The biggest and most important rule about restaurants is that Tamlin picks the seating order. Or, more specifically, he picks his seat and who sits near him, and everyone else has to figure out where to go around him.

“I wanna sit with Uncle Leenik,” he announces, as soon as they have their table for dinner. “And Uncle Bacta and Uncle Lyn.”

Which, when they’re all settled, somehow puts Tryst at the exact opposite corner from Leenik, sitting surrounded by the kids.

The thing is, technically, it’s Tryst’s fault that the kids are on tour with them. They weren’t supposed to have any kind of opening act, but Tryst had made a joking offer to them at some point. He hadn’t meant it, not really, but Jane had raised hell about it, and Bacta had thought it was a good idea, and so they’d adopted The Wildcard Kids. They earn their keep, too, because they’re the only touring stage crew that The Mynock has with them, and they’re also good performers. And they’re decent kids to boot.

“Hi, Hessa,” he says as he settles in next to her. “You’ve been to Texas before, right?”

“I’m from Alabama,” Hessa says. Tryst genuinely can’t tell if she means as “yes” or “no,” but she says it like it should be obvious.

“I’m from Arizona,” he counters, and Hessa tilts her head at him like she doesn’t understand. “You know, the southwest? The desert?”

“Is it an actual desert?” Jane asks, looking genuinely curious. She and Pliff are from the suburbs in some foresty state up north. Poor kids have probably never experienced 120-degree summers. Tryst pities them.

“Yeah, it’s an actual desert.” Tryst arches an eyebrow at her. “You know New Mexico is an actual desert too, right?”

“And Las Vegas,” Pliff points out, and all three of the kids sigh in unison.

Tryst has to bite back a smirk. “There are plenty of things to do in Vegas other than drinking.”

“We can’t even gamble,” Pliff half-whines. “You have to be twenty-one.”

“You can visit the casinos. Go to strip clubs.”

Hessa goes scarlet, and Pliff‘s not far behind her. Jane taps her fingers on the restaurant menu, looking pensive. “Are there a lot of those?”

“In Las Vegas?” Tryst snorts. “Yeah, there are a few.”

“Huh,” Jane says thoughtfully. Tryst always knew she was the smartest.

Pliff buries his face in his hands. “Jane,  _ no- _ ”

“Do we really want to?” Hessa says, looking mortified. “Can’t we find a nice museum, or a magic show, or-”

“Uncle Tryst broke the kids,” Tamlin says loudly from the opposite corner. All three uncles - and Neemo, seated awkwardly at the head of the table - turn to look at Tryst.

“I did nothing wrong,” Tryst says. Nobody looks like they believe him. Leenik actually looks away from him, which, yikes. “I can fix them?”

“Are there museums in Las Vegas?” Hessa whispers, like she’s worried Tryst is going to tell her that there’s a strip club museum or something. Actually-

“I think there’s a strip club museum or something,” Tryst says, and Hessa moans in despair. “Or maybe it’s about the mafia. Would that be cool?”

“No,” Hessa says, from where her face is buried in her arms on the table. “No mafia.”

Tryst shrugs. “Jane and I can go on a museum tour together, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Jane says cheerfully. “Neither of us would have fun, and you’ve got press stuff to do anyways.”

“You wound me,” Tryst says, even though she’s absolutely right. “But we can find time, right, Janey? Just you, me, and the local mafia.”

Hessa buries her face further in her arms, and Pliff glares at Tryst between his fingers. Tryst grins at them and opens his menu.

 

#

 

**The Mynock** @themynockband

Tamlin update: fell asleep during round three of the billboard game. He held out longer than we expected. He’s a real trooper. pic.twitter.com/4h63nr74

**becca loves mynock!** @themynockbecca   
Replying to @themynockband

awww precious! who was he playing against? did he win? :o

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockbecca

I won the first round, he won the second. Think I win by default? -B

**becca loves mynock!** @themynockbecca   
Replying to @themynockband

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you replied!! maybe he can rematch you when he wakes up? <3

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockbecca

We play most nights. This is the first time I’ve won in… an embarrassingly long time. -B

**becca loves mynock!** @themynockbecca   
Replying to @themynockband

then congrats on your win! drive safe you guys!! <3

**~*casey*~** @applepeaches   
Replying to @themynockband @themynockbecca

BECCA OH MY GOD

**becca loves mynock!** @themynockbecca   
Replying to @themynockband @applepeaches

CASEY!!!!!! I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**bacta’s new bff** @themynockbecca

is this real life

 

#

 

**Albuquerque, NM**

 

Tryst is a patient person.

Ha. Okay, no. Tryst is a person who understands that there’s a time and a place for some conversations, especially conversations about other people. So he waits until they’re checked in at the hotel, and the buses are parked, and he and Lyn are safely in their shared hotel rooms before he says, “You talked to Leenik.”

Lyn sighs one of her patented I’m-disappointed-in-you,-Trystan sighs. “I can’t tell you what we talked about.”

“I won’t ask you to,” Tryst lies. “Or, I mean, now that you’ve said you won’t tell me-”

Lyn rolls her eyes. “It’s your turn for the bed near the window.”

“Do we have a good view?” Tryst goes to the window and opens the curtains. “Oh, there’s a pool here, you think we’ll have time to go swimming?”

“We are going to be in San Diego in less than a week.”

“Yeah, for like two hours in the morning. Is that enough time for swimming?”

“Do you even like swimming?”

Tryst shrugs. “Tamlin does, Bacta and Leenik don’t. I’m kind of the swimming uncle by default.”

He doesn’t have to turn to see Lyn smiling, the way she does when she’s somehow convinced herself that Tryst is a decent caretaker for a child. “Maybe we can take him swimming tomorrow.”

“Do we have Tamlin in the morning?”

“We do.”

Tryst decides that he should make more of an effort to keep up with the Tamlin schedule next tour. “We can ask him what he wants to do.”

He glances over his shoulder in time to see Lyn nod, and then pause, eyes going soft. “Leenik says he is worried about college.”

“Isn’t everyone worried about college?”

“He’s worried to go back after so many years out of school.”

“Leenik’s one of the smartest people I know.”

Lyn shrugs. “Some smart people don’t do well in college. And some people can’t adjust from a national tour to sitting in a classroom.”

“He’ll figure it out,” Tryst says, because he will. “You wanna see what’s good on hotel TV?”

“At nine o’clock on a Saturday?”

“HBO?”

Lyn shakes her head. “Try and find something if you want,” she says, and wanders towards the bathroom. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Killjoy,” Tryst calls after her, as if he’s going to do anything other than change into his sleep kimono and watch HGTV until he passes out. She laughs from the bathroom, like she knows he’s lying. Which she definitely does, but it’s the principle of the thing.

 

#

 

**Lyntel Luroon** @lluroon

The man, the myth, the legend, the exhausted after driving half our trip today. pic.twitter.com/jk0Ir7p

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @lluroon

lazy

**Lyntel Luroon** @lluroon   
Replying to @themynockleenik

Better hope he doesn’t find out you said that.

 

#

 

**SUNDAY**

 

Tamlin, seated at the hotel breakfast bar, kicks his feet and announces, “I wanna go in a hot air balloon.”

Tryst looks at Lyn. Lyn looks back at him sidelong and then turns to Tamlin. “Are you sure?”

“Mmhm.” He kicks his feet a little harder, thudding against the wall behind the bar. “I borrowed Uncle Bacta’s tablet and looked up things to do in New Mexico, and it looks like there are a lot of hot air balloons here. So I wanna do that.”

“Bud, I’m not sure if you can book a last-minute hot air balloon ride,” Tryst says, as gently as he can. “That doesn’t mean we’re not gonna try, but if you want to come up with a back-up plan, now would be the time.”

“There’s a pool at the hotel,” Lyn offers brightly. “That could be worth considering.”

Tamlin nods slowly and takes a thoughtful bite of cereal. “Can we still try the hot air balloons?”

“We can still try the hot air balloons.” Tryst glances at Lyn and lowers his voice. “Will Bacta let us take his kid in a hot air balloon?”

“Uncle Bacta said it’s okay as long as it’s safe,” Tamlin chirps.

Lyn makes a face and mouths “Is it safe?” Tryst shrugs, and she rolls her eyes before looking back at Tamlin. “We’ll do what we can.”

Tamlin beams. “Thanks, Uncle Lyn!”

Tryst clears his throat, and Tamlin looks at him guiltily. “And thank you too, Uncle Tryst!”

“No problem,” Tryst says. “And we can hold you over the edge of the basket as long as you don’t tell Bacta, okay?”

“Yeah!” Tamlin cheers.

“Absolutely not,” Lyn says sharply. Tamlin pouts at her, but she shakes her head. “No, Tamlin, we need to keep you safe.”

“Uncle Tryst wouldn’t drop me,” Tamlin says.

“Not on purpose,” Tryst agrees. Lyn whacks him on the arm. “What? I wouldn’t.”

“I think we’re leaving you on the ground,” Lyn says dryly. “It would be better for my blood pressure, and Bacta’s.”

“Bacta doesn’t have to know!”

“No holding Tamlin over the edge of the basket.”

“Aw,” Tamlin says, but he doesn’t look as disappointed as he sounds.

“Eat your cereal, buddy,” Tryst sighs, and Tamlin does. “Lyn?”

“I’ll call around,” Lyn says, getting out of her seat. “But only if Tamlin finishes breakfast.”

Tamlin nods seriously. “I will, Uncle Lyn.”

“Good.” Lyn pats Tamlin’s shoulder and sweeps her hand through Tryst’s hair, ignoring the way he swats at her, and then leaves to probably pull strings and get them in a hot air balloon.

Tamlin peeks at Tryst. “Will you hold me over the edge?”

“Only if the balloon pilot says I can,” Tryst admits. “Gotta keep you safe, kiddo.”

“I thought you said nothing safe was ever fun.”

“That’s only when you’re a grown-up. Plenty of safe things are fun when you’re a kid. Haven’t you ever been in bumper cars?”

Tamlin makes a face. “Bad example.”

“Good example!” Tryst protests, even though Tamlin is probably, absolutely right. He normally is.

 

#

 

**The Mynock** @themynockband

Tamlin update: flying high! pic.twitter.com/ch4dmgn5

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @themynockband

Did you post this specifically to give me an aneurysm?

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockbacta @themynockband

he’s not kidding he looks like his eyes are about to pop out

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockleenik @themynockbacta

He’s fine, Tryst is keeping a careful eye on him. -LL

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @themynockband @themynockleenik

Is that supposed to make me feel better

 

#

 

Tryst doesn’t know who in this kid’s life taught him that brunch is better than breakfast, especially when he can’t even have mimosas, but Tamlin insists on going somewhere with a brunch buffet.

“You ate breakfast,” Tryst says exasperatedly. “Doesn’t brunch mean you’re doubling up?”

“It means I get one and a half breakfasts and half a lunch,” Tamlin says, and seriously, who taught him these things? It had to be Leenik. Maybe Neemo. “And that’s two meals total, which is the right number.”

“He’s got you there,” Lyn mutters.

And so they trek from their hotel room to a brunch buffet, where Tamlin loads up with bacon and French toast, and Tryst stares longingly at the mimosas before Lyn whispers “we’re performing tonight” and drags him away. People in the restaurant definitely recognize them, and Tryst catches them staring, but as always, nobody comes over because Tamlin is there. It’s one of their only boundaries with fans, and luckily it’s one that normally gets followed.

Tryst is so distracted looking around that it takes him a minute to realize Tamlin poking at his scrambled eggs with his fork. “They’re gonna taste the same with holes as they do without holes, kiddo.”

“I know,” Tamlin says quietly, and that sets off every alarm bell in Tryst’s head.

“Tamlin,” he says, carefully, “is there something you want to talk about?”

Tamlin’s face scrunches up in a way that definitely means yes, and also definitely means he doesn’t know how to say it. Tryst waits it out, ignoring Lyn’s nervous glances between them, until Tamlin sets his jaw and looks up. “Why does Uncle Leenik want to go to college?”

“I don’t know,” Tryst answers. Tamlin glares. “No, bud, I really don’t. Uncle Leenik thinks about a lot of things without telling people about them, and this is one of those things. You have to talk to him about it if you want answers.”

“Decisions about the future can be a very personal thing,” Lyn adds. “He’s having trouble making that decision, and it’s important that we respect that and let him come to terms with it at his own pace.”

“I guess.” Tamlin’s face scrunches up in that super adorable way it does when he’s not quite satisfied with what they’re telling him, and he stabs at his eggs again. “What’s college like?”

Tryst turns to Lyn. “Yeah, professor, what’s college like?”

“Well, I went to university in both France and England, so it wouldn’t be quite the same as what Leenik would do if he goes to college here, but college is like high school.”

Tamlin tilts his head. “Is high school anything like pre-school?”

“Not quite. It’s a little closer to elementary school.”

“Am I gonna start that soon?”

Lyn glances at Tryst. “Yes?”

“Bacta’s got you all registered for school,” Tryst confirms. He doesn’t understand half of it, but Bacta’s constantly talking about teachers and the PTA and what the hell ever else goes into a good kindergarten experience. “You’re gonna be starting in the fall.”

“Why?”

“Because Bacta wants you to have a good education, so you can grow up to be smarter than all of us.”

“Even Uncle Lyn?”

“I think nothing would make me happier than you being smarter than Uncle Lyn,” Tryst says seriously. Lyn rolls her eyes.

Tamlin nods, and then pokes his eggs with his fork. And again. And then so hard that his mass of eggs splits into two smaller masses of eggs.

Tryst sighs. “Tama, you’re gonna need to either eat the eggs or tell me what’s wrong.”

Tamlin chops off a chunk of scrambled egg, eats it, and then bursts out, “Did Mom like college?”

Tryst nearly drops his fork. Lyn actually does drop her fork. Tamlin stares up at Tryst, eyes wide, lower lip wobbling. “Uncle Tryst?”

“Yeah,” Tryst manages after a minute. “Yeah, bud, your mom had a great time in college.” He’d never gone to college - fuck that, he never finished high school - but he’d visited Grizelle on campus more times than he could count. Her door room was like his second home. She was a good student, the kind who actually did projects before the last minute and enjoyed writing papers.

“So college is good?”

“College is good if you want to go. Your mom wanted to go, and that was great. Bacta and Leenik and I, we didn’t want to go at the time, and that was great for us, too.”

“Why did mom want to go if you didn’t?”

“Your mom-” Tryst takes a deep breath. He can feel Lyn’s eyes on him. They don’t talk about Grizelle that often. This may be the most Lyn’s ever heard about her. “Grizelle was a lot smarter than I am, and she also grew up in a different family. So college was important to her, but it wasn’t to me.”

“And that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” Lyn says softly.

Tamlin nods and takes a bite of his eggs, chewing them solemnly. Tryst takes the chance to scarf down some bacon, because if they’re going to keep up with this emotional shit, he’s going to need the energy.

“Okay,” Tamlin says at last, and Tryst breathes a sigh of relief. Lyn elbows him. Tamlin ignores the whole thing. “So if Uncle Leenik wants to go that’s good?”

“That’s right.”

“And if you don’t want to go, that’s still good?”

“You’re getting the hang of it.”

“And college is like elementary school?”

“I mean, they’re both school.”

Tamlin nods, looking satisfied. “Then I don’t want to go to elementary school.”

“Uh,” Tryst says. “That’s not how it works.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, I think it’s against the law if you don’t go to school.”

“There’s homeschooling,” Lyn starts, but she quails under the glare Tryst shoots her. Bacta has decided, off and on about a dozen times, that he’s going to homeschool Tamlin. The last thing they need is Tamlin getting wind of that idea. “But school is good! You can meet other children your age.”

“Uncle Tryst already acts like he’s five,” Tamlin says innocently.

Lyn glances at Tryst. “Burn ball?”

“Burn ball,” Tryst agrees. “That was a good one. We’ll get it to you when we’re back on the bus tomorrow. But you’re still going to school in the fall.”

Tamlin sighs. “Them’s the breaks,” he mutters, and goes back to his eggs.

“Who says that?” Tryst demands. “Is that Neemo? Do we need to talk to Neemo about teaching you phrases that sound like they’re from a detective story again?”

“Neemo is teaching me how to sound cultured and dramatic,” Tamlin says, delicately, like Neemo told him to use that explanation.

“Christ,” Tryst mutters, and takes a sullen bite of hash browns. They really do need to get Tamlin some friends his own age. Maybe kindergarten will be good for him after all.

 

#

 

**The Mynock** @themynockband

Tamlin update: shopping trip in Albuquerque! pic.twitter.com/l1l5tur4

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

Tryst has insisted that I upload his “blues brothers” photo. I hope you all understand this reference. -LL pic.twitter.com/mh3vet18

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @themynockband

You do not have my permission to buy my son a fedora and suit jacket.

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockbacta

Pleeeeeeease?

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockbacta

Oh no I forgot to put my name! Hi uncle Bacta -Tamlin

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @themynockband

Hi, buddy. No fedora, yes suit jacket?

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockbacta

Thank you!!!!!! :) -Tamlin

**The Mynock** @themynockband

Celebrating his new sport coat (with thanks to @themynockbacta) pic.twitter.com/m3hr9hkf

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockband

oh my god he’s adorable

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockleenik

He knows it, too. -LL

 

#

 

Neemo whisks Tamlin away as soon as they get to the stadium, and Tamlin bounces off with him, chattering about sport coats and Tryst’s bad summary of The Blues Brothers. Tryst waits until they’re out of earshot before turning to Lyn. “You did some good uncle-ing at brunch, you know.”

Lyn snorts. “I think you handled that much better than I did.”

“Well, yeah, I’ve been his uncle longer. I have more practice.”

“Maybe I should try and have more serious conversations with him.”

“To what end?”

“You know, for bonding.”

“You can’t force bonding, Lyn. Forced bonding means losing uncle status. Do you want to lose uncle status?”

Lyn crosses her arms. “Absolutely not.”

“That’s what I thought,” Tryst says smugly. Lyn loves Tamlin an impressive amount, and Tryst knows that her uncle status was hard-earned. He’s pretty sure that she’d cried the first time he’d called her Uncle Lyn. And by pretty sure, he means that he was actually crying too hard to see if Lyn was.

“But still.” Lyn pauses, and then sighs. “I don’t… know much about Grizelle, but you all clearly loved her, and the way you talk about-”

Tryst holds up a hand. “I’m gonna stop you right there.”

“Did I break the ‘no sincere emotions before concerts’ rule?”

“Left it shattered on the floor.”

“Are there exceptions for the final countdown?”

Tryst pauses. “I think if there are, all of us need to be here to discuss it. The last show’s an exception for sure, though. We can have sincere emotions that whole day.”

“I’m telling you, it would be easier if we wrote down-”

“Wrote down the tour rules?” Tryst scoffs. “Next you’re going to tell me we should write down our itinerary for every city instead of just memorizing them.”

Lyn casts him a strange look. “We have written copies of the itineraries.”

“And maybe you need those, but I don’t.”

“That’s just because you drive half the time.”

“And the tour’s turning out just fine.” Tryst flashes a smile at her, and she grins back at him. If she tries to push this whole sincere-emotions thing, he’s going to fight back, because this conversation is  _ awesome _ without sincere emotions. “Let’s go find Bacta and Leenik.”

“Or the kids.”

Tryst waves her off. “The kids are just fine without us.”

“And Bacta and Leenik aren’t?”

“You never know what kind of shenanigans they’ll get up to without us.”

Lyn rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. “I suppose we should go rescue them.”

“We should definitely go rescue them,” Tryst agrees. “Which way is the stage?”

“You can see the stage from here.”

“You’d better navigate for me.”

“Tryst-”

“Navigate us, Lyn,” he says, and she sighs, and she does.

 

#

 

**Neimoidian Sparks** @neemosparks

My assistant today is extra dapper. pic.twitter.com/Aur81lnQ

**Ivy Keller** @ivynopoison   
Replying to @neemosparks

all these pictures of dapper tama are killing me! have a good show!! <3

**Jude Vacarro** @themyn0ckband   
Replying to @neemosparks

more bts pics please!!!!

**Sienna Q** @THEsienna   
Replying to @neemosparks

@theathereal look!!!

**it’s thea!!** @theathereal   
Replying to @THEsienna @neemosparks

OHHHH MYYYYY GODDDDDDDDDD

 

#

 

**The Mynock** @themynockband

Albuquerque, you were amazing. pic.twitter.com/7aim4gns

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

As always thank you @neemosparks for our show clip of the night -LG

 

#

 

**Mynock Tour Clips** @mynockclips

Tonight’s clip from Albuquerque: Tryst’s solo in HEROIC http://twitter.com/themynockband/status/12874320893

**hamish** @haaaaaaymish   
Replying to @mynockclips

uh wasnt this solo the clip from pittsburgh

**Annaleigh** @breakfastqueen   
Replying to @haaaaaaymish @mynockclips

Are you actually complaining about *more* videos of this solo?

 

#

 

**MONDAY**

 

Tamlin falls asleep in Tryst’s lap just before they start loading the bus, which gives Tryst basically the best excuse ever to not be a part of loading the bus.

“So much for your art form,” Lyn remarks.

Tryst clutches Tamlin a little closer to his chest, ignoring the way she smirks at him for it. “I’m an uncle first, artist second.”

Lyn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you really?”

“Is that a surprise?”

“You always seemed like you put the band first.”

“I put my family first,” Tryst says. It’s midnight, and he’s tired, and he’s still off-balance from brunch, and that’s the only reason he’s being honest. “It’s just that you guys are all my family, so the band and my family are the same thing. I like you more than the music, though.”

Lyn smiles at him, looking pleased. “You’re a good uncle, Tryst.”

“Never heard that before,” Tryst says. Tamlin shifts in his arms, and Tryst settles his chin on top of Tamlin’s head. “You guys and the kids, you go load up the buses. We’ll be here.”

Lyn reaches over and ruffles his hair, and he’s too tired to even grouse at her for it. “Good show tonight, roommate.”

“Thanks, roomie.” Tryst catches her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles, just to watch her roll her eyes. “You too.”

“It’s the final countdown,” Lyn murmurs, and leaves Tryst and Tamlin.

“End of the road, bud,” Tryst murmurs. Tamlin doesn’t even stir. Tryst smiles and starts humming - nothing in particular, just noises, but he can feel Tamlin’s heartbeat, and that’s all the music he needs.

 

#

 

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

guerilla filming: uncle Tryst and nephew Tamlin pic.twitter.com/f82lsjp4

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockleenik

thanks for a good night, Albuquerque. only four shows to go.


	2. Las Vegas

**MONDAY**

 

**Las Vegas, NV**

 

 **From: tubaik**  
911 emergency

 **From: tubaik**  
ren wake the fuck up

 **From: tubaik**  
it’s past noon wake UP

 **From: tubaik**  
REN

 **From: tubaik**  
ZERO CANCELED, REN

 

 **From: sneak**  
So don’t freak out but our headliner for tonight just canceled on us

**From: sneak**

And we’re up shit creek without a paddle

 **From: sneak**  
Good morning, we’re fucked

 

 **From: zeroni**  
Don’t kill me.

 

#

 

“Zee.” Rendezvous tries to stifle a yawn and probably, definitely fails. “The fuck’s going on?”

“You don’t need to pretend you’ve been awake all day,” Zero says. He sounds on edge, not as calm or cool as she’s used to, and if she’d been awake for longer than three minutes she might be worried about that. “I get it, bartender hours, you probably went to bed at five in the morning.”

“Six, actually,” she admits, and rolls over in bed. “You mind explaining why I woke up to the boys freaking out about you canceling?”

“That would be because I canceled.”

“You canceled your big DJ gig headlining in a Vegas bar?”

“I’ve headlined in a dozen Vegas bars before. I’ve headlined in _your_ Vegas bar before, and not just on a Monday night, either.”

“But not tonight?”

“Not tonight.”

Rendezvous raises her eyebrows. Zero doesn’t cancel gigs lightly, especially not when those gigs are for friends. “Everything okay, big guy?”

Zero makes a frustrated noise. “Personal emergency.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Not about me.”

Rendezvous hums. That narrows down the options. “What did Blue do?”

Zero sighs heavily. If Rendezvous listens - and she does, now that she can guess what to listen for - there are hospital noises in the background, quiet beeps and hushed voices. “He tripped down the stairs and dislocated his hip.”

“From tripping down the stairs?”

“I don’t know how he does these things,” Zero says, palpably frustrated. “He dislocated his shoulder while he was conducting an orchestra a few months ago, so this isn’t even out of the ordinary.”

“He gonna be okay?”

“Only if I don’t throttle him. But he’s gonna be more insufferable than normal if I leave while he’s injured.”

“I’m sorry, Zee,” Rendezvous says, and she’s surprised by how much she means it. Zero’s boyfriend isn’t her favorite person - she’s pretty sure he’s not anyone’s favorite person, other than Zero’s - but he’s still a decent guy. He knows a thing or two about music, at least, and that makes him okay in her book. “Don’t worry about missing the gig or anything.”

“I promise you, that was one of the last things I was worrying about.”

“And now it’s off the list altogether.”

“At least you guys were doing that whole mystery guest thing,” Zero offers, although his heart’s certainly not in it. “You know, trying to hype that up. Maybe you can nab a different mystery guest. No one will know.”

Rendezvous snorts. “Yeah, because there’s gonna be someone dumb enough to agree to headline for us on seven hours notice, right?”

“You’re in Las Vegas, you’re gonna tell me there aren’t enough musicians to get a headliner?”

“Maybe,” she allows. “I’ll let you go now, no need to make small talk. Make sure you remember to eat and all that shit, okay?”

“I have a friend who dragged me out to lunch earlier. Hospital cafeteria lunch, but still lunch.”

“Good. Take care.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Rendezvous hangs up and stares at her phone, and she finally lets the dread hit her. She can’t begrudge Zero wanting to stay at home with his dumbass injured boyfriend, but they’ve been hyping up his surprise appearance for weeks. They were supposed to announce him formally in a couple of hours, get people scrambling to come see _the_ DJ Zero live and in person. It was going to be huge. And now they have nothing.

Sneak and Tubaik’s texts are still there, waiting for an answer, and she guesses she should fucking figure something out. She’s the manager of this bar, goddammit, she can’t let things end like this.

“Goddamn it,” she says aloud to her empty apartment. “Where am I going to find a big name musician?”

She could call someone, maybe. Heatseekers has had their share of big names perform there, and maybe one of them would do it if she paid out her ass for how last-minute it is, but that would defeat the point of making money. She could try and find some contractual way to make Zero do it, but that’s not good business, and she’s not enough of an asshole for that. She could find some up-and-coming starry-eyed kid to take advantage of and promote like they’re already famous. She could walk back the social media campaign and eat crow. She can bitch about this whole thing tomorrow at lunch with Tryst, and maybe with his hot drummer friend if there’s time.

Holy shit. Tryst and his band.

Rendezvous dials his number before she can second-guess it. This is her best shot, probably, if only because Tryst is a sucker for family. She’s banking on that.

He picks up almost immediately. “Are you dying?”

“I call you when I’m not dying too.”

“Uh, okay, you don’t get to lie to me right now.”

She has to give it to him: that was definitely a lie. She doesn’t call him nearly as often as she should. “Fine. Trystan.”

“Rendezvous.”

“How many favor points do you owe me?”

Tryst swears quietly. “Uh, like, six? Is this going by the old favor point system?”

“What’s the new one?”

“The one we switched to at the memorial.”

Rendezvous rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to be bitchy about me skipping Dad’s memorial.”

“You know, I don’t need to be, but I think I’m going to anyways.”

“So you owe me six points.”

“I do.”

“Do you wanna get rid of all of those, right now?”

Tryst goes quiet. Mostly, the Valentine favor point system is used for things like buying each other lunch, or that time Rendezvous picked Fling up when the cops crashed a party she was at. One or two points per favor, maybe three in big cases. Six points is unprecedented. At last, Tryst says, “Do I need a lawyer for this conversation?”

“My big music act at the bar canceled tonight. I need someone to fill in.”

“God, I actually might need a lawyer,” he mutters. “You would need to pay us.”

“I’ll pay you what I was going to pay Zero.”

“I need to talk to the rest of the band.”

“All six favor points, Tryst.” Rendezvous puts her phone closer to her mouth. “All _six_. Have we ever had a six-point favor before?”

“I don’t think any of us have ever owed someone six favor points before,” Tryst says, which is completely correct. He’s just really bad about paying Rendezvous back for her favors.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“We’d be making history, huh?”

“I think this is a good six-point favor. You can clean the slate, right now.”

“This system is completely outdated,” he mutters, which is as good as a yes.

Rendezvous grins. “I’ll even pay for lunch tomorrow.”

“Doesn’t that mean I’ll owe you another favor point?”

“No, that’s just a kind gesture from your big sister.”

Tryst snorts. “Yeah, okay, sure. I gotta go, Vous-Vous, I’m driving for the next four hours. I’ll get Bacta to text you with whatever we decide.”

“Don’t crash,” Rendezvous says.

“Jesus, I wasn’t worried about it till now,” Tryst mutters, and hangs up.

Rendezvous stares up at the ceiling for a little while longer. There’s a shot here. Tryst is a sucker, he’ll make this happen. He has to make this happen.

 

#

 **From: hot drummer**  
Legally we can’t do a full-on concert. Contract stipulations about tours.

 **To: hot drummer**  
i sense a “but”

 **From: hot drummer**  
But if Tryst and Lyn did an acoustic set of covers…

 **To: hot drummer**  
we’re not a super acoustic place, drummer boy

 **From: hot drummer**  
It’s the best we can do.

 **From: hot drummer**  
There’ll be a lot of fans who couldn’t get tickets who would jump at the chance for an exclusive concert experience.

 **To: hot drummer**  
you have a high opinion of your own importance

 **From: hot drummer** **  
** You’re the one who asked us to play at your bar.

 **To: hot drummer** **  
** good point

 **To: hot drummer** **  
** can you be ready to play by 8?

 **From: hot drummer** **  
** Absolutely.

 **From: hot drummer** **  
** Tryst wants to know if you have two pianos or if we need to bring any.

 **To: hot drummer** **  
** we currently have no pianos

 **From: hot drummer** **  
** He asked me to tell you to fuck off with that garbage.

 **To: hot drummer** **  
** that sounds like a him problem

 **To: hot drummer** **  
** thanks for saving my ass on this

 **To: hot drummer** **  
** feel free to do whatever promotional shit you want

 **From: hot drummer**  
Oh, we were going to do that whether or not you said we could, don’t worry.

 

#

 

 **HEATSEEKERS BAR** @LVheatseekers

You’ve asked, we’re answering. Our mystery guest: @themynockband. Tonight. 8:00.

 **HEATSEEKERS BAR** @LVheatseekers  
Replying to @LVheatseekers @themynockband

Tryst Valentine and @lluroon will be playing an exclusive acoustic set. $10 cover to get in, standing room only. See you there.

 **The Mynock** @themynockband

Las Vegas! Before we see you tomorrow, you can see us tonight - check out @LVheatseekers for more info.

 **The Mynock** @themynockband  
Replying to @themynockband @LVheatseekers

(One of us may have a sister there. Maybe. -B)

 

#

 

 **From: tubaik** **  
** how

 **From: tubaik** **  
** the //fuck//

 **From: tubaik** **  
** did you get the mynock to play at heatseekers

 **From: tubaik** **  
** with literally seven hours notice

 **From: tubaik** **  
** they sold out at mandalay and they’re going to be playing at our bar

 **To: tubaik** **  
** how dare you question me

 **From: tubaik** **  
** I know that’s an intimidation tactic and it shouldn’t work but that’s actually pretty scary

 **To: tubaik** **  
** fucking right it is

 

#

 

In what absolutely has to be an embarrassment tactic, Tryst wrangles Rendezvous into a hug the second he sees her. The kind of hug that nearly sends them both toppling to the floor. At least one of his legs is wrapped around her.

“I’m going to kill you,” Rendezvous says into his shoulder.

“That’s not a way to repay a six-point favor,” Tryst says cheerfully.

“What is a six-point favor?” demands hot drummer Bacta, who is thankfully just as hot as she remembered.

“Valentine secret,” Tryst and Rendezvous say at the same time. She glares at him. He seems completely unbothered and lets her go, at goddamn last. “I’m assuming we’re playing in that conveniently curtained-off section over there.”

“Nothing gets past you, Trystan,” Rendezvous says dryly. “We have our sound system set up as good as we could get it, but none of us are experts-”

“Obviously,” sniffs the one-handed guitarist. “I’m going to go fix that.”

“Please do,” Rendezvous says, and he marches off. “Is he okay?”

“Leenik misses his son,” Tryst says, so deadpan that Rendezvous can’t even tell if he’s kidding.

She frowns. “I thought you took the kid on tour with you.”

“No, that’s my son,” Bacta sighs. God, hot drummer and hot dad, how the fuck did Tryst meet this guy? “He won’t be here tonight, so you don’t have to worry about a kid in your bar.”

Tryst leans in conspiratorially and lowers his voice to a stage whisper. “Our opening act is babysitting him, but Bacta doesn’t know that they’re going to a strip club museum.”

“The kids are not going to a strip club museum,” the new lead singer says exasperatedly. “Honestly, how they have not gotten tired of that joke is beyond me.”

“They’re tired of every joke I make,” Tryst says cheerfully. “Now, Vous-Vous, I know what you’re thinking, and don’t worry, Lyn and I both brought keyboards and guitars.”

“Don’t call me Vous-Vous,” Rendezvous says automatically. “And how long are you planning to play for?”

“Dunno, you didn’t tell us, so we planned three hours.” Tryst grins. “Plus a meet-and-greet afterwards, so, you know--”

“Forty-five minutes,” Lyn says.

Rendezvous lifts an eyebrow at her. “You sound like you’re used to dealing with this asshole.”

“I live with him.” Lyn shoots Tryst a pained look; he grins back at her. “He is… one of a kind.”

“She loves me.” Tryst adjusts the guitar he has slung over his shoulder. “Do we get free drinks?”

“You get free drinks,” Rendezvous sighs. Sneak and Tubaik had insisted. Apparently this band is a big goddamn deal, or something. “But only after your set.”

“Then we’d better get set up so we can start drinking,” Tryst says cheerfully. “C’mon, Lyn.”

Lyn glances at Rendezvous tentatively. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, you seem okay,” Rendezvous agrees. “Drummer boy, you playing tonight?”

“Drums don’t exactly fit in with acoustic vibes, so no. I’m just here for heavy lifting.”

“And free drinking,” Lyn murmurs.

Bacta laughs, so genuinely bright that Rendezvous is nearly taken aback. “The free drinking isn’t half bad either.”

“Come find me once you’re set up, I’ll mix you up something good,” Rendezvous promises. Bacta’s eyes flick to her, looking bemused, and she shrugs. “Hey, you’re all covering my ass here, the least I can do is give you the good stuff.”

“And also pay us,” Tryst says, and starts towards their makeshift stage. Lyn follows him.

Bacta looks at Rendezvous one more time, opens his mouth, closes it, and says abruptly, “I have a kid now.”

“Yeah, the other singer’s kid,” Rendezvous says, because even if she doesn’t keep up with Tryst’s life, she would’ve had to be under a rock to miss that whole shitstorm. “What about him?”

“I’m going home to check on him tonight,” Bacta says stiffly. He sounds embarrassed, which is positively adorable.

Rendezvous smirks despite herself. “So only quickies in the stockroom, no going home together?”

He looks even more pained. God, hot drummer is fun to mess with. “None of those, either.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

“You Valentines,” he starts, and then shakes his head and goes towards the stage. Rendezvous watches his ass as he walks away, because life’s too short to deny herself simple pleasures.

 

#

 

“Hey, Ren,” Sneak says, when it’s 7:45 and the bar is almost too packed for anyone to move. “How did you do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you just fucking call The Mynock and ask them to come here?”

“That’s exactly what I did. My brother’s the band’s bassist.” She cranes her neck. “He’s up there somewhere. Not that you can see him.”

“Your brother is the bassist for an internationally famous rock band.”

“Bass and keyboards. And my sister plays keyboard in another.”

Sneak sighs. “Sometimes, I think I have you figured out, and then you go and say things like ‘I have a brother,’ and I realize I don’t know you, and then those things are ‘he’s the bassist for a famous band,’ and I realize that you’re not even a real fucking person.”

“But I’m still your boss,” Rendezvous says, a little pleased despite herself. “And you’ve gotta serve these nice folks some drinks.”

“You’ve gotta serve them drinks, too.”

Rendezvous shrugs. “I can live with that.”

 

#

 

A couple of songs into the set, Bacta plops down at a bar stool and says, with a touch of desperation, “Whiskey?”

Rendezvous pours him a glass of middle-shelf whiskey and leans onto the bar. “You look a little stressed.”

“There are a lot of people here.”

“You guys sell out stadiums regularly.”

“I’m not normally in the crowd for the stadiums.” He takes a long drink of whiskey and visibly relaxes. “How’ve you been, Ren?”

She shrugs. “Same business as ever, you know. Not a lot of news.”

“We haven’t talked in nearly four years.”

“How am I supposed to remember everything from the last four years?”

Bacta nods, looking altogether too thoughtful. “Any big changes?”

“Nothing as big as you.” She raises her eyebrows. “Got a kid, huh?”

“Got a kid,” Bacta echoes, and sips at his whiskey. “Good kid, too.”

“Are there really any good kids?”

“There’s one, and I’ve got him.”

Rendezvous smirks. “Think you’re a little biased there, bud.”

Bacta rolls his eyes. “Whatever. That kid’s going to turn out great, no thanks to his Uncle Tryst.”

“I’m amazed that you’re letting him help raise a kid at all.”

“He’s not so bad sometimes.” He pauses, considering that, and immediately downs the rest of his whiskey. “Other times-”

“-he’s Tryst,” Rendezvous finishes, and Bacta smiles at her wryly. She thinks, a little absently, that if she were the kind of person for settling down, or for keeping a long-distance friendship, he’d be one of the first on her list. Damn shame she’s not. “I know the single dad thing must be hard, but if you’re relying on him…”

“Him and Leenik, whose other son is a pit bull.” Bacta sighs.

Rendezvous reaches for the whiskey to refill his glass. “Wasn’t there a godmother or something? I thought Tryst said he was dating-”

Bacta glares at the glass so hard Rendezvous is tempted to move away. “Aava’s not in the picture.”

“What about your new lead singer?”

“What about her?”

She sets the bottle on the counter and glances up at the stage as the crowd starts cheering. She waits for it to subside as they start another song and then shrugs. “I dunno, she seems like maybe the most stable one here, after you.”

“She is.” Bacta drinks his whiskey and makes a face. “She’s worried about replacing Grizelle in Tamlin’s life, which I think makes her the best choice for it. It’s all sort of twisted, but she’s just as happy being an uncle.”

“Don’t you mean aunt?”

“Aava’s the only one he calls an aunt.”

“Aava who’s not in the picture?”

“I guess it’s his way of separating the bad relatives from the good ones.” Bacta rolls his eyes. “We’re working on it.”

“At least the kid has a system,” Rendezvous points out.

Bacta smiles, with all the fondness in the world. Rendezvous has never done fondness, or anything even in the realm of parental emotion. And Bacta wasn’t fond, when she first met him. He was too busy figuring out how to love people to deal with something as delicate as fondness. She’d been more than happy to help him ignore his problems back then, but he’s not that person now. Maybe that’s for the best.

“He’s smart,” Bacta says, a little wistfully. “Maybe smarter than the rest of us.”

“Isn’t that every parent’s goal? To have their kids be better than them?”

“I’m not quite sure I’m a parent.”

Rendezvous rolls his eyes. “You don’t get to call him your kid and then say you’re not his parent.”

Bacta blinks at her. “I don’t think I’m drunk enough to talk about that.”

Rendezvous tops him off. Bacta tilts his glass towards her. “To not talking about anything too deep.”

“To things working out where you don’t expect them,” she answers, tipping the bottle towards him. He drinks, and she doesn’t, and Lyn’s voice soars above them both, through the murmur of the crowd.

 

#

 

**TUESDAY**

 

**MKBX Las Vegas - Interview with The Mynock**

 

 **Lavali:** What’s up, everybody, this is Blur 91.3 Las Vegas, I’m your host Lavali Lithros and today I’m here with the members of The Mynock! If you listen to this station, you’ve heard them, because we play their music _all_ the time. Guys, welcome to the studio, how about you introduce yourself for the folks at home?

 **Bacta:** Well, I’m Bacta, and I play the drums.

 **Tryst:** I’m Tryst, and I’m the beauty to Lyn’s brains.

 **Lyntel:** You mean you play bass.

 **Tryst:** And it’s beautiful.

 **Lyn:** I’m Lyntel Luroon, and I play the keyboards with Tryst, and I sing.

 **Leenik:** Radio is a dying medium, you know. Uh, Leenik Geelo, I play guitar.

 **Lavali:** So you guys are in Las Vegas as part of your national tour, but you had a surprise show last night! What was the deal there?

 **Tryst:** Oh, that’s easy, my sister is the manager at the bar we played. It was a favor to her.

 **Leenik:** I’m pretty sure that’s nepotism.

 **Tryst:** It’s absolutely nepotism.

 **Lavali:** This is a different sister than the one in the Kaiburr Crystals, I’m assuming.

 **Tryst:** Yeah, they’re very different. Vous - that’s Rendezvous, the one who works at the bar - is _way_ more badass than Christmas.

 **Lyn:** Don’t you have a third sister?

 **Tryst:** Oh, don’t worry about her.

 **Lavali:** Now, Christmas - that’s Christmas Valentine of the Kaiburr Crystals, she’s the one who introduced you two, right?

 **Lyn:** That’s right, yes. I used to play keyboard with the Crystals, and after their first international tour I left the band. Christmas was my replacement, and Tryst and I met at a Crystals event.

 **Tryst:** And now Lyn lives with me.

 **Lyn:** [sighs] And now… I have made some mistakes that mean that I live with Tryst.

 **Tryst:** Hey, now. I’m an amazing roommate.

 **Lyn:** You’re better than living alone.

 **Tryst:** Thank you.

 **Bacta:** Lyn is the only one of us who has ever lived permanently with Tryst, and she says it’s not that bad, but-

 **Tryst:** Because it’s _not!_

 **Leenik:** Lyn, if he’s making you say these things, blink twice.

 **Tryst:** That doesn’t work, I can see her blink.

 **Lavali:** Listeners at home, Lyn is not blinking.

 **Leenik:** Well, that’s just because Tryst can see her blink.

 **Tryst:** Leenik, what is it that makes you think I would be bad to live with? You can move in with-

 **Lyn:** No-

 **Tryst:** -us, you and Tony-

 **Lyn:** We don’t have room for a dog-

 **Leenik:** How _dare_ you-

 **Tryst:** It’ll be perfectly nice! I’m a good roommate!

 **Leenik:** Tony is not just a dog!

 **Lyn:** But he is, at his core, a dog!

 **Leenik:** That’s not the point!

 **Bacta:** We need to change the subject, guys, this is not a fight for the radio.

 **Leenik:** Actually, I want this as public as possible.

 **Tryst:** Yeah, me too, I want the record to show that I’m _great_ to live with.

 **Bacta:** [sighs] Lyn, if you want to remove yourself-

 **Tryst:** Are you trying to get Lyn to move out?

 **Bacta:** I’m trying to save her from this _argument,_ Tryst, I’m sure you’re an excellent roommate.

 **Tryst:** Thank you!

 **Lyn:** Anyways! Bacta has the best roommate out of all of us.

 **Leenik:** What about Tony?

 **Tryst:** What about _me?_

 **Lyn:** I’m talking about Tamlin.

 **Tryst:** ...okay, maybe.

 **Lavali:** [laughing] The famous Tamlin! What’s he like in person?

 **Bacta:** He’s the smartest kid I’ve ever met.

 **Tryst:** Have you met a lot of kids?

 **Bacta:** I don’t need to, I already know that ours is the best.

 **Lavali:** Not to get too serious here-

 **Tryst:** Oh, god, please get serious, someone here has to.

 **Lavali:** Do you guys all consider yourselves Tamlin’s parents?

[several seconds of silence]

 **Tryst:** You know, I might take it back. Too serious.

 **Lyn:** I certainly don’t. I’m the only one who didn’t know Grizelle personally - I was a fan of The Mynock back in the day-

 **Tryst:** Aw, you were?

 **Lyn:** Well, yes? It was sort of hard not to be.

 **Tryst:** Did you come see us tour?

 **Lyn:** I didn’t come see you tour.

 **Tryst:** Damn it. That would’ve been too good of a story.

 **Lyn:** But back to what I was saying, I didn’t know Grizelle, and I didn’t know any of you until long after the accident. I’m certainly not Tamlin’s parent.

 **Leenik:**  I mean, I already have a son. And that's Tony. Although I guess Tamlin counts too.

 **Tryst:** I am amazed that Bacta lets me even have uncle status.

 **Bacta:** The thing is - you know, obviously, it was hard on all of us when Grizelle died, it was a horrible accident-

 **Leenik:** [coughing loudly]

 **Bacta:** Harder on some of us than others.

 **Leenik:** Hey, Lyn, you know what I just realized?

 **Lyn:** What?

 **Leenik:** You never knew me when I had both hands.

 **Lyn:** That’s… I guess that’s true, isn’t it?

 **Leenik:** You never got to meet my left hand.

 **Lavali:** Just in case there are any listeners right now who don’t remember the accident-

 **Tryst:** Oh, god, are there people out there who were too young to remember that?

 **Lyn:** It’s been, what, three years?

 **Leenik:** Almost four, but, you know, who’s counting?

 **Bacta:** You know, a lot of people have been asking about this, just because Grizelle was with us on our last tour.

 **Lavali:** That would be Grizelle Jorun, the lead singer on your first album.

 **Bacta:** Yeah, she was our original lead singer. She was a founding member, and then she and Leenik were in a car accident just after our first tour wrapped up. And we lost Grizelle.

 **Leenik:** And I lost my hand.

 **Tryst:** And then you learned to play guitar right-handed, which is maybe the coolest thing ever. We’re like the Beatles now.

 **Lyn:** What- are you a Beatles fan?

 **Tryst:** Uh, aren’t you?

 **Leenik:** Did one of the Beatles lose a hand?

 **Bacta:** Herding cats. It’s like herding cats.

 **Leenik:** Bacta, did one of the Beatles lose a hand?

 **Bacta:** I think we both know the answer to that is no.

 **Leenik:** Okay, some of us aren’t Beatles fans, maybe some of us weren’t sure.

 **Tryst:** Do you- Leenik, do we need to have a Beatles night?

 **Leenik:** What is that? I’m afraid of bugs, you know that.

 **Tryst:** You’re absolutely not afraid of bugs, and you know what I’m talking about, don’t even play with me. We’re live on the radio.

 **Leenik:** I’m sure all ten of the listeners having a radio listening party appreciate that you acknowledge them. No offense.

 **Lyn:** Leenik-

 **Leenik:** We don’t even listen to the radio, and we’re on a perpetual road trip.

 **Tryst:** Well, yeah, you don’t listen to the radio on road trips, you listen to albums. Like something by the Beatles.

 **Bacta:** Do we need to buy Beatles albums for the next leg of the trip?

 **Leenik:** Am I allowed to buy an Enya album?

 **Tryst:** Leenik, no making up bands.

 **Lyn:** I already have Enya albums on the bus.

 **Leenik:** [gasps] You do?

 **Lyn:** Of course I do.

 **Leenik:** Lyn, we need to play them. We need to play them all the way to San Diego.

 **Tryst:** Veto.

 **Bacta:** Ooh, bad use of a veto.

 **Leenik:** Yeah, because now we can play them all the way except for the last ten minutes.

 **Tryst:** Oh, f***, you can, can’t you?

 **Leenik:** You just used your weekly veto, so that’s a yes.

 **Lavali:** [laughing] Do you guys have veto rules?

 **Tryst:** Of course we have rules, we’re not animals.

 **Bacta:** We get one a week, no rollover because that would be too much power-

 **Leenik:** And because Tryst tried that once.

 **Tryst:** And it worked! Because we didn’t have the rule yet.

 **Bacta:** Tryst is the reason we have… a lot of rules.

 **Lyn:** It’s very hard learning all of your rules, you know that?

 **Leenik:** What?

 **Bacta:** Are you having trouble with our rules?

 **Lyn:** Not anymore, no, but at the time-

 **Tryst:** What part of “one a week” do you not understand?

 **Lyn:** You have some kind of value judgment system for the vetoes that takes a while to learn. Sometimes you all just arbitrarily say that a use of a veto is bad, it’s very frustrating.

 **Leenik:** It’s not arbitrary, we only say it for the bad ones.

 **Lyn:** But what makes a veto bad?

 **Tryst:** When you use it badly. God, Lyn, keep up.

 **Lyn:** You see? You see what I have to deal with? I _live_ with him-

 **Tryst:** And it’s a delight!

 **Lyn:** Only when you are not insulting me for not understanding your completely ridiculous rules!

 **Leenik:** Hypothetically, can I veto Lyn complaining about our veto rules?

 **Lyn:** That would be a waste of a veto, because this is the only time this has come up in the last month so it’s not worth it, and now you have me doing it too! Look at me!

 **Bacta:** We’re all proud of you, Lyn.

 **Tryst:** Yeah, you made a good counterpoint, even if you sort of undercut it there at the end.

 **Lyn:** Well, excuse me for not using your formalized veto procedures correctly.

 **Tryst:** You are excused. Thank you for asking for pardon.

 **Lyn:** Is that another procedure?

 **Bacta:** Have we not explained pardons?

 **Leenik:** Hey, guys, remember how we’re on the radio?

 **Lavali:** I remember.

 **Leenik:** Folks at home, I know the dozen of you in your listening party must be very excited-

 **Tryst:** Wasn’t it ten earlier?

 **Leenik:** A couple of people showed up late. Anyways, I know you guys might be tempted to write down our veto rules. Don’t do that. These rules are verbal only.

 **Lyn:** That’s the only rule we have written down, is that we’re not allowed to write rules down.

 **Lavali:** Isn’t that a little contradictory?

 **Bacta:** No, Lyn wrote it, so it made sense.

 **Lyn:** I believe the list of written rules is “all rules beyond this one will be verbal only.”

 **Tryst:** Lyn likes to act like she isn’t the best thing to happen to our rules system.

 **Leenik:** Guys, I think I changed my mind, radio is kind of awesome.

 **Bacta:** That’s good! I’m glad you’re having fun.

 **Leenik:** Are we allowed to hit any of the buttons?

 **Lavali:** You can hit one in about ten seconds, if you let me do an outro.

 **Leenik:** Oh, of course, please.

 **Lavali:** We’re going to take a quick commercial break, and when we come back I’ll chat with The Mynock about their process for putting together this tour and their second album.

 **Tryst:** See, you say that, but the odds of that happening are-

 **Lavali:** So make sure you tune in! Till then, we’re gonna play you out with some Sugar Death Ray. Leenik, that one-

[“Fly” by Sugar Death Ray starts playing]

 **Leenik:** Nailed it.

 **Lavali:** Don’t go anywhere, we’ll be right back.

 **Leenik:** No, but I’m actually curious about your listenership-

[the interview audio cuts out]

 

#

 

“You’re late,” Tryst says, because he’s an asshole.

“I went to bed at six,” Rendezvous says, and drops into a chair. “The fact that I hauled my ass out of bed at noon for you-”

“Reflects poorly on your ability to say no,” Tryst says dryly, but quails when she looks at him. “Listen, I ordered what you texted me, food should be here any minute.”

“Good.”

“Should I be worried that you’re trying to make this lunch go as fast as possible?”

“It’s not you, it’s the fact that I’m tired as hell.”

Tryst shrugs and leans back, tilting his chair onto the back two legs. The restaurant isn’t exceptionally busy, and it’s Vegas, so nobody looks twice at the rock star waiting for his lunch. “Maybe you should work better hours.”

“I set my own hours.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they’re _good._ ”

Rendezvous rolls her eyes. “How many cities have you been in this week, asshole?”

“I’m teaching my nephew the meaning of Americana,” Tryst says, affronted.

And it’s maybe a low blow, but Rendezvous says anyways, “Yeah, then how was Phoenix?”

He cringes a little, like she expected. Fucking baby. “We’re steering clear of Phoenix and also the entire state of Utah until he’s a little older.”

“The whole state?”

“Grizelle’s family is… a little intense.”

“It’s been four years.”

“She left for a reason.” Tryst slams all four legs of his chair down, looking uncomfortable. “I dunno, it’s - Tamlin’s still too young to understand why he has four uncles, an aunt that hates one uncle while dating another, a pit bull for a cousin, and no grandparents to speak of.”

“You haven’t introduced him to me,” Rendezvous says, as though she actually gives a fuck. She knows the kid is her nephew-by-proxy, or something, but she has no interest in meeting him. Just in watching her brother squirm.

“He needs permanence in his life.” Tryst fixes her with a surprisingly genuine glare. “And people who will be there.”

“Is this about the memorial?”

“This is about me wanting Tamlin to have a good family.”

Rendezvous nods slowly. “So it’s about the memorial.”

“I know I wasn’t at the funeral either,” Tryst says, which definitely cut the legs out from underneath Rendezvous’s main counterargument. “But I wasn’t there because one of my best friends had died, and so nobody told me that my dad did too. You just didn’t feel like going.”

“Dad wasn’t great, as a person.”

“You’re not great, and I’d still go to your funeral.”

She snorts. “That’s real sweet, Trystan. You’re setting a great example.”

“ _Rendezvous,_ ” he says, just this side of desperate. Like this actually matters. “Can we just- actually talk about this? Serious conversation, until the food gets here?”

“When did you order?”

“About ten minutes ago. I’m just asking for five minutes.”

Rendezvous takes a deep breath. “Alright. Listen, neither of us went to our dad’s funeral, and that’s fine.”

“Objectively, it’s kind of not.”

“Subjectively, we don’t owe a dead guy any of our time, not when he wasn’t dad of the year or anything. And especially not a memorial get-together two years later.”

Tryst rolls his eyes. “You’re missing the point of that whole thing.”

“What, the point where it was a family get-together more than it was a legit memorial? Where it wasn’t about him, it was about us?”

He blinks. “Yeah, that point.”

“I got the point, Tryst,” she says patiently. “I just don’t care. I don’t owe him, or anyone in the family, any of my time that I don’t want to give.”

“But they’re our family.”

“Weren’t you the one who was just saying you’re not introducing your nephew to his blood relatives?”

He grits his teeth. “That’s different. Grizelle cut ties with them. She didn’t want Tamlin to go anywhere near them.”

“They’re still his family, technically.”

“It’s for his own well-being.”

“And this is for mine.” Rendezvous shrugs. “Listen, I like our family as people, sure, but you’re the only one who’s made any effort to talk to me since I moved away from Phoenix. I don’t need to prioritize people who don’t prioritize me.”

“Maybe they feel the same about you,” Tryst says, but he looks sad in a way that has to mean he gets it. “Vous, listen, you’re my sister. You’re always gonna be my sister, whether you like it or not. And I want you to meet my band. They’re my new family.”

“You know I banged your drummer, right?”

“Again?”

“No, the last time you were touring. But keep going.”

Tryst rolls his eyes. “What I’m saying is, I want you to be a part of this life. My life. But it doesn’t seem like you want to.”

There are a thousand answers to that, and Rendezvous knows most of them sound cold. Not from a distance. Not if it means putting myself second. Not like this, Tryst, you’re an adult now, you should get that. _No._

“Not now,” she says, because it’s gentler, and at the end of the day he’s always going to be her kid brother.

Tryst exhales. For the briefest of moments, he looks sad, but he settles back into something more neutral. “You want concert tickets?”

“What?”

“We have a couple of reserved seats at our concert tonight. You can come, or bring a friend, or something. Hang out backstage afterwards.” Tryst gives her a pleading look. “I’m not asking you to move in with us, I’m just asking you to visit.”

Rendezvous opens her mouth, but before she can figure out what to say, she catches sight of a waiter, heading their way. “Food’s here.”

“This was completely unproductive,” Tryst says. “I just want to make sure you know that.”

“I’m not sure what you thought it would be,” Rendezvous says as the waiter arrives. Judging by the look on Tryst’s face, he’s not either.

 

#

 

She runs errands, after. She gets groceries, and goes to the post office, and sifts through the frankly terrifying social media response that comes from having a hit touring band play an impromptu show in her bar. And she goes home, and falls asleep, and wakes up too late to go to the concert. Which is fine, because Tryst never called her about the tickets like he promised he would after lunch.

“Damn Valentines,” she says. If she were a lonelier person, maybe she’d be sad that it doesn’t echo in her bedroom.

 

#

 

 **Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

guerilla filming: Tryst’s post-show cooldown (think he’s on a Beatles kick) pic.twitter.com/5ummer17

 **Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik  
Replying to @themynockleenik

part 2: now an impromptu jam session w/ all of @themynockband and @wildcardkids pic.twitter.com/18arp3jf

 **Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik  
Replying to @themynockleenik @themynockband @wildcardkids

good night, bright light city. three shows left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're into transmedia: [this](https://playmoss.com/en/jazflute/playlist/venus) is the acoustic cover set that Tryst and Lyn play at Heatseekers.


	3. San Diego

**WEDNESDAY**

 

**Las Vegas, NV**

 

“Toothbrush?”

“I put it next to yours.”

“Pajamas?”

“In the suitcase.”

“Blanket?”

Tamlin frowns and looks around the room. “I think it’s also in the suitcase?”

“Are you just saying that because you don’t see it?”

“That means it’s not there, right?”

Bacta glances around the hotel room. “You wanna double-check that, buddy?”

“Do I have to?”

“Do you want to leave anything behind?”

Tamlin shakes his head and scurries off towards the beds. Bacta takes the chance to double-check the suitcase; Tamlin’s favorite blanket is already packed snugly away, like he knew it would be. They have a system for hotels at this point, but it makes Bacta feel better to double-check, and it’s probably important that Tamlin learn that kind of responsibility now.

“I think you left your tablet charger under the bed,” Tamlin says after a minute.

Bacta frowns. “I left my tablet on the bus.”

“Oh.” Tamlin’s head pops up. “Do you want a tablet charger?”

“Sure,” Bacta decides. He’s fairly certain that if he puts it in front of Leenik, he’ll pull it apart somehow, and that’ll be entertaining to watch. Tamlin will be mesmerized, at least. “Throw it here.”

Tamlin throws it, with more force than Bacta expected, but also worse aim, which means that it slams into the wall next to Bacta’s head. Tamlin claps his hands over his mouth. “Uncle Bacta-”

“Wall’s not dented,” Bacta says reassuringly, bending down to pick up the charger. “Be a little more gentle next time, all right?”

There’s a slap from the other side of the wall. “You guys okay in there?” Tryst calls, voice muffled.

“We’re fine,” Bacta answers. “We’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

“Are you doing that whole double-check thing?”

“Aren’t you?”

Tryst snorts, and Tamlin snickers. “Bacta. Come on.”

“Is Lyn?”

“I think we both know she is.”

Bacta rolls his eyes. “Go down to the lobby. Tamlin, is there anything else over there?”

“Nope!” Tamlin jumps to his feet. “We’re going to San Diego!”

“Yes, we are.” Bacta can’t help but smile. “You excited?”

Tamlin nods frantically. “I was talking with Uncle Lyn yesterday, and she said, she said if I get up early she’ll take me to the ocean before we leave, and that’s gonna be  _ so cool! _ ”

“You’re not gonna be able to go for long.”

“But I’m gonna see the ocean! And Uncle Lyn said even if we don’t have time to go swimming for real, we can still go on the beach and find seashells and wade in the shallow bits!” Tamlin claps his hands together and gazes up at Bacta, wide-eyed. “Are you gonna come with us, please, Uncle Bacta,  _ please- _ ”

“I’ll come,” Bacta says, and Tamlin’s face breaks into a giant, bright smile. “I’m not going in the water, but I’ll come with you.”

“Yeah!” Tamlin practically flings himself at Bacta, throwing his arms around his legs. “It’s gonna be great! We’re gonna see the  _ ocean! _ ”

“Yeah, bud,” Bacta says, patting Tamlin on the back. “But first we gotta get there, so let’s finish up in the hotel room and head down, alright?”

Tamlin nods, face pressed against Bacta’s waist, and gives him one more squeeze before running off to the bathroom.

Bacta knows, on some level, that Rendezvous was right. It’s not fair to call Tamlin his kid and refuse to call himself Tamlin’s parent. The poor kid already has a sideways family situation, and while he knows what happened to his mom, he could probably use someone that he could point to and call a dad. He’s even the natural choice, being his godfather and all. But they can’t have this conversation yet. Not on tour.

They’re the last ones to the lobby. Tryst and the kids are loading up plates with free hotel breakfast, and Jane hands Tamlin a plate as soon as he approaches. Lyn and Neemo are off in a corner, talking animatedly.

“Got you something to rip up,” Bacta says, and holds out the charger.

Leenik takes it and absently hands Bacta a cup of coffee. “How many tools am I allowed to have out on the bus?”

“Anything that wouldn’t kill someone if we hit a pothole.”

“Are we planning on hitting potholes?”

“Does anyone plan on it?”

Leenik shrugs, turning the charger over in his hands. Bacta takes the opportunity to drink the entire cup of coffee, watching Leenik lift it closer to his face, pull it farther away. “Where’d you find this, anyways?”

“Tamlin found it, I guess the last guest left it.”

“Can I cut it up?”

“Anything that won’t kill someone,” Bacta repeats.

“It’s too bad this isn’t enough to do anything fun with.”

“The concierge might let you have other old chargers people leave behind.”

Leenik’s eyes snap to Bacta. “Seriously?”

Bacta shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

Leenik wordlessly plucks Bacta’s coffee out of his hand and replaces it with a full cup, then pivots towards the front desk and marches off. Bacta takes a drink of his coffee and shakes his head. Leenik is a mystery, but at least he’s a mystery who has fun.

“Uncle Bacta!” Tamlin waves at him as soon as he looks over. “Can the kids come to the beach with us?”

“You’re going to the beach?” Tryst demands. “Bacta,  _ you’re _ going? Without  _ me? _ ”

“Lyn’s going, I was invited,” Bacta says. “You’re all welcome to come, if you want, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our schedule.

Tryst’s jaw drops. “That was my idea! She stole my idea!”

Bacta glances over. Lyn is either ignoring the conversation or too wrapped up talking to Neemo to notice. “It was your idea?”

“I’m the swimming uncle!”

“You’re from Phoenix. In the middle of the desert.”

Tryst crosses his arms. “I was still the swimming uncle!”

“Uncle Lyn has been swimming,” Tamlin says, looking staunchly up at Tryst. “Like, a whole bunch! She’s seen all the oceans!”

“I’ve never seen an ocean,” Hessa says, looking wistful.

“We’ve been once,” Jane adds, glancing at Pliff for confirmation. “But that was the Atlantic.”

“Tour trip!” Tamlin cheers. “It’ll be better than Oklahoma!”

“Everything is better than Oklahoma,” Leenik says. When Bacta looks, he’s both surprised and completely not surprised that Leenik’s arms are full of abandoned phone chargers. “Hey, Tamlin. You wanna do some tour bus science with me?”

Tamlin’s face lights up. At this rate he’s going to implode of excitement before they even get to San Diego. Bacta worries that they’re spoiling him, sometimes. Either that or making him completely unable to relate to most kids his age. Maybe both.

 

#

 

**The Mynock** @themynockband

Hi guys!! Uncle Leenik is doing tour bus science and he said I could watch and tweet about it on the band twitter which is super cool!

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

Oh this is Tamlin! And Siri’s helping me by writing down what I say.

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

Tour! Bus! Science! pic.twitter.com/3jsl8eTf

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

He says it’s gonna be a battery but I don’t think that’s how batteries work? Are there wires in batteries?

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

Siri are the batteries in phones double A or triple A

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

Oops! That was for Google, not Twitter! :)

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

It works!!!! pic.twitter/com/Fuc41ngl

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

I gotta go because it’s lunch time but I hope you guys liked my Twitter! Siri can you put a heart there please

**The Mynock** @themynockband   
Replying to @themynockband

(I’ll help him out here -LG) <3

 

#

 

**Riverside, CA**

 

Tryst nearly cries when they pull the parking lot in front of an In-N-Out Burger. Bacta, with all of his east coast sensibilities, is sorely tempted to make fun of him for it. The only thing that stops him is that Leenik seems to be right there with him, and making fun of Leenik just isn’t as fun.

“I want Chinese food,” Tamlin announces as they get off the bus.

Bacta takes one look at him, and then at Tryst giving the In-N-Out a look with more genuine affection than he has ever given Bacta, and says, “I’ll take you, buddy.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lyn offers. Tryst shoots her a betrayed look, which she ignores. “I think Tryst and Leenik should have this place to themselves.”

“They don’t have In-N-Out in France,” Leenik stage-whispers to Tryst, who nods fiercely. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”

“Is this a cult?” Bacta asks nobody in particular.

“Uncle Bacta,” Tamlin says, not  _ quite _ whining because he says he’s too old for that, but also definitely whining. “Chinese food?”

“Let’s go find Chinese food,” Bacta says, resting a hand on Tamlin’s shoulder. Tamlin beams up at him. “You two, we’re out of here in forty minutes, you understand?”

“Forty-five,” Leenik and Tryst say in frankly alarming unsion.

“I think it’s a cult,” Lyn says dryly.

Bacta rolls his eyes. “Forty-five. I’m sure the kids will be in there with you, or wherever Neemo goes, so just make sure we all get back on the bus at the same time.”

“You’re tour dad,” Tryst says, affronted. “I think that’s your job.”

“It’s yours if you’re in the same building as them.”

“ _ Uncle Bacta. _ ” Tamlin fastens both hands around Bacta’s wrist. “Come on, please, please?”

Lyn laughs and wrestles one of Tamlin’s hands off of Bacta and into her own. “Let’s go, Tama, come on.”

Tamlin swings both of their arms back and forth as they walk across the street. Lyn laughs again, a little brighter. “Careful there, you’re going to knock us into someone.”

“Hmmm.” Tamlin pauses, pretending to consider, and then scrunches his face up at Lyn. “No fun!”

“You heard him, Lyn,” Bacta says, mock-serious. “No fun. Gotta let the kid swing.”

Lyn arches an eyebrow, clearly holding back a laugh. “What if I don’t want him to have fun?”

“You want me to have fun,” Tamlin says confidently. “You’re a good uncle. That’s what good uncles do.”

“But what if swinging isn’t fun for me?”

“Then you gotta figure out something more fun.”

Lyn meets Bacta’s eyes over Tamlins head and mouths the word “lift.” Bacta grins and lifts up three fingers, then ticks one down, then another.

“I think we can do that,” Lyn says, and in unison they lift up Tamlin’s arms, pulling his feet off the ground. He shrieks and immediately kicks his feet back and forth, and Bacta’s heart stops for a quarter second before he realizes that Tamlin’s definitely laughing.

“That was more fun,” Tamlin says breathlessly as soon as he has both feet back on the ground. He beams up at Lyn, who smiles right back at him.

Lyn’s good with Tamlin. It’s one of those thoughts that kicks up every now and again in the back of Bacta’s mind, that she’s good with him and he’s grateful for it. When Tryst had announced out of nowhere that he had a new roommate, one who could sing, Bacta had been worried about how Tamlin would take it. But if anything he’d latched directly onto her. She’d been everything they could’ve wanted, but somehow even more.

“Bacta and I have a good understanding of fun,” Lyn says, and her eyes flick up to Bacta, and her smile widens like they have a secret. Bacta smiles back like he knows what the secret is.

They end up at a Panda Express. Tamlin insists that he gets his own side of the booth, so Bacta and Lyn sit across from him and take turns reminding him to eat as he chats with them.

“You excited to get home?” Bacta asks, once they’ve both finished most of their food.

Tamlin nods, then visibly pauses and digs his fork into his chow mein. “Uncle Bacta, what are we gonna do next?”

“Well,” Bacta says, “I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna sleep.”

Tamlin giggles. “You’ve been sleeping!”

“Not enough,” Lyn mutters.

Bacta lifts his eyebrows, because he didn’t think Lyn would know that, but he decides to move on. “And then you and I are going to get you ready to start school in the fall.”

“Kindergarten?”

“Kindergarten.”

Tamlin nods and twirls the noodles around his fork. “What are you gonna do while I’m in school?”

“I don’t know,” Bacta says honestly. Tamlin looks up at him in wide-eyed surprise, and he shrugs. “I might look into writing more songs. Might work with the kids on their next album. Might just take a break.”

“You can do that?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“What about you, Uncle Lyn?”

Lyn sighs. “Tryst wants to start a podcast.”

Bacta slants a look at her. “You’re not serious.”

“He actually has some good ideas for it, but he’s going to need me to do a lot of the technical stuff, so!” She sighs, but she’s smiling a smile that Bacta recognizes. Every single person who knows Tryst smiles that smile. It’s long-suffering, and surprisingly genuine. “I think that’ll be our project.”

“And Neemo is gonna write another book?”

“You’d have to ask him about that.”

Tamlin nods. “And Uncle Leenik’s starting college.”

“Maybe,” Bacta allows. “You’d have to ask him about that too.”

“Would he answer if I asked?”

Bacta’s fairly certain that he would not. “You won’t know if you don’t try,” he says anyways.

Tamlin gives him a look that means he definitely sees through that, but he takes a bite of chow mein. “And we’re gonna do this again?”

“Maybe,” Bacta says. “You never know what’s gonna happen next.”

“But we’ll find out together, right?” Tamlin says hopefully.

“Together,” Bacta agrees, and Lyn nods resolutely. “You never have to worry about that, Tamlin.”

 

#

 

**Neimoidian Sparks** @neemosparks

My partner in crime, in our last non-hometown city pic.twitter.com/qr8s01jf

**Neimoidian Sparks** @neemosparks   
Replying to @neemosparks

have been told that he is my partner in crime-fighting and not crime, sorry for the misunderstanding

**Neimoidian Sparks** @neemosparks   
Replying to @neemosparks

We’re detectives now. He says he’s eighteen, because only adults can be detectives.

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @neemosparks

Oh god being a detective is so dangerous, tell him to stay safe.

**Neimoidian Sparks** @neemosparks   
Replying to @themynockbacta

You know we’re not actually detectives, right?

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @neemosparks

Right, just like he’s “not actually” assisting you with any of the stage setup? Or lighting cues?

**Neimoidian Sparks** @neemosparks   
Replying to @themynockbacta

In our defense the Chicago crowd loved the weird light show once they knew it was him

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @neemosparks

Yeah. No detective work.

 

#

 

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids

Hi everyone! My name’s Tamlin and Pliff asked me to film part of the concert from his phone :)

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

My uncle Leenik taught me how to use Twitter and also Siri

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

Oops I took a bunch of videos but I can’t remember how to get them up

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

@themynockleenik @themynockbacta @themynockband @lluroon how do you put videos on Twitter?

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @wildcardkids @themynockleenik and 3 more

Buddy, why don’t you just hand the phone to Neemo?

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @themynockbacta @wildcardkids and 3 more

He’s busy

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @wildcardkids @themynockbacta and 3 more

It’s just like putting up pictures, remember? Just start a new thread after this one, you got it

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @themynockleenik @themynockbacta and 3 more

:0 thank you uncle Leenik!!!!!!

 

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids

Here’s the first song from tonight! Hessa has a cool solo -Tamlin pic.twitter.com/w1l3c4al

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

And here’s another bit! Jane’s a really good singer, I wanna sing with her one day -Tamlin pic.twitter.com/wzusld98

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

And one more! Pliff wrote this song and he did a good job!! -Tamlin pic.twitter.com/7s83lsjz

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

Those are all the ones for right now but Pliff might put up more later! Bye!! :)

 

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids

Thank you to our social media manager for the night, @themynockband’s very own Tamlin Jorun. (The videos? Surprisingly good.) -P

 

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids

A bonus video: Jane insisted on singing a duet with Tamlin. -P pic.twitter.com/t723xisu

 

#

 

**Mynock Tour Clips** @mynockclips

Bonus clip from San Diego: @journeyingjane and Tamlin singing EYES UP. (Technically, this counts as a Mynock tour clip.) http://twitter.com/wildcardkids/status/273849201837

**Mynock Tour Clips** @mynockclips

Tonight’s clip from San Diego: @themynockbacta and @themynockleenik switch places for FRESHWATER. http://twitter.com/neemosparks/status/1928302748392

 

#

 

**Bacta** @themynockbacta

@themynockleenik you are not allowed near my drums again.

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockbacta

I did nothing wrong

 

#

 

**Now Trending - United States**

#LeenikDidNothingWrong

 

#

 

**San Diego, CA**

 

“Guys,” Tryst says solemnly, “I think Rosie is broken.”

“You’re not supposed to break  _ people, _ ” Tamlin says, with all the exasperation he can muster. “Only things.”

“Not things either,” Bacta corrects him gently. “And Rosie isn’t a per-”

Tryst points at him. “Don’t finish that.”

“She’s a lovely keyboard,” Lyn says soothingly, and Tryst stops bristling. “But she is a lovely keyboard whose sound output is malfunctioning.”

Bacta frowns. “Malfunctioning how?”

“She stopped playing entirely in the middle of the encore,” Tryst admits. “Lyn covered for it pretty well, but my girl is busted.”

Bacta frowns. Broken equipment is a problem. “Can you fix her?”

“Me? Absolutely not. I was hoping Leenik could.”

Leenik grimaces. “I could try, but she’s an old one, Tryst. I’m not sure anything I do wouldn’t make it worse.”

“Worse than not playing at all?”

“I could make it so you never play her again.”

Tryst gasps, looking wounded. “Absolutely not.”

“Do we know anyone who can repair Rosie?” Bacta asks, trying not to rub a hand down his face. God, but he’s tired. He just wants to take his kid back to the hotel and go to bed. “Anyone in Los Angeles who can meet us tomorrow?”

Tryst shakes his head. “I don’t trust just anyone to work on Rosie, they’d have to be good.”

“I don’t know anyone,” Lyn says.

Bacta shakes his head. “Neither do I. Tryst, I hate to say it, but we may need to get you a different keyboard until-”

“I, uh,” Leenik says, and then looks so taken aback that he said anything that he stops talking. Bacta waits it out, eyebrows raised, and Leenik’s shoulders hunch in. “I might know someone.”

“Someone we can trust?” Tryst demands.

Leenik’s mouth closes and opens once or twice. “Someone who can definitely fix Rosie.”

“That not what-”

“Do you have a number?” Bacta interrupts. Tryst may be keyed up over his unnatural relationship with that damn keyboard, but Leenik is definitely on edge, and, well. Bacta can at least try to smooth these edges over.

Leenik shakes his head. “I can find it, though. Are you gonna call her?”

“I can call her.” Bacta glances at Tryst. “Unless you wanted to, but I’m actually worried about you having a conniption if you talk about Rosie being broken.”

Tryst’s eye twitches. “Yeah, no, go nuts, Bacta, that’s all yours.”

“Good. Unless Leenik-”

“You can call her,” Leenik says, with the same rigidity that he uses when he talks about taking Tony to the vet, or about getting a new prosthetic. The kind that means he’s trying to end the conversation. “I’ll send you her number, it’s fine, it’s all fine.”

“Okay,” Bacta says, trying not to sound too much like he’s dealing with a wounded animal. “You do that, I’ll get it taken care of.”

“Good, then that’s settled,” Lyn says. All eyes go back to her; Bacta tries to project his gratitude towards her. “Leenik, you give Bacta that number and then we can get to bus-loading. Tryst, you go on Tamlin duty, unless you’re willing to stick with my system.”

“Never,” Tryst says, with more venom than is probably necessary.

Lyn eyes him. “Can you take care of Tamlin when you’re so upset about Rosie?”

“Tamlin’s just gonna fall asleep again,” Leenik mutters, which is… probably true.

Bacta claps his hands together. “Alright, chop-chop, let’s get going.”

 

#

 

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

guerilla filming: Tryst is making up a song based on a story Tamlin told him pic.twitter.com/37ald82k

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockleenik

san diego, you were amazing. los angeles, my home, our last two shows are all yours.

 

#

 

**THURSDAY**

 

Leenik’s recommended keyboard fixer picks up on the first ring. “This is Chartreuse.”

“Hi,” Bacta says, probably too brightly. “I, uh, I’m calling about a repair for a keyboard? Later today, if you can.”

“Not a problem,” Chartreuse says. Her voice is smooth and professional, totally impersonal. Bacta’s not sure if it sets him on edge or puts him at ease. “What’s the problem with the keyboard?”

“Sound output isn’t working at all. My band’s playing a concert tomorrow night, but we’re rehearsing today, so if there’s any way you could meet us at the venue today, that’d be perfect.”

“And what’s the venue?”

“The Staples Center.”

Chartreuse goes silent, which is probably a fair reaction. “So you’re not just some little indie band, huh?”

“We’re a bit more than that, yeah.”

“What time did you want me to meet you there?”

“How long will you take?”

“No more than an hour.”

Bacta runs through the times in his head. Rehearsal’s at 5, which means that Leenik will be there around 4:30, and something tells him that Leenik and Chartreuse may be best off if they don’t see one another. “Could you meet us there around 3:30?”

“3:30,” Chartreuse repeats. “I’m sure I can meet you out front, Mister…”

“Bacta.”

She goes quiet again. When she speaks again, her voice is significantly more brittle. “As in, The Mynock.”

“As in The Mynock,” Bacta confirms. “If you don’t mind it would be just you and me, and maybe my-” he clears his throat, because it’s still strange to say - “my son. We’re not too big on public profiles.”

“I’ll say,” Chartreuse mutters. “Alright, I’ll be there at 3:30. And I’ll try and fix your keyboard as fast as possible.”

_ How do you know Leenik, _ he almost says, because surely she’s figured out that’s where he got her contact information, if she knows that Leenik is in the band. “Much appreciated,” he says instead. “And as for payment-”

“I’ll send an invoice when I’m done,” she says smoothly.

“Perfect. Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll see you at 3:30.” She hangs up.

The thing is, it took them all a long time to talk about their families with one another. Tryst hadn’t mentioned his sisters until their first tour, when he’d insisted that they all go out with Rendezvous for a night. He hadn’t mentioned Christmas until a couple of years after that. Bacta’s sure that they all know that he’s from a big family, that he doesn’t stay in touch with any of them if he can help it. They barely know anything about Lyn, beyond that she had a brother.

Bacta has known Leenik for seven years and he knows that Leenik has an older brother, something he’d mentioned offhand in an interview and had never elaborated on. He knows that Leenik is good with computers and engineering and won’t explain why, that he’s from Los Angeles and doesn’t talk about that at all, that he moved to Phoenix when he was barely an adult to get away from… something.

And now he knows Chartreuse. And it’s not his to know, if Leenik doesn’t want him to, but. It’s more than Bacta’s learned in years.

Bacta sighs and pockets his phone. Rosie is taken care of. That has to be what matters most. And now he’s going to the beach with Tamlin, and that matters more.

He raps his knuckles on the bathroom door. “You almost ready, buddy?”

The door swings open to reveal Tamlin, swim trunks on, fists propped up on his hips. “Uncle Bacta, is the ocean big?”

“The ocean’s very big, and you’re not going in there without one of your uncles there.”

Tamlin nods, absorbing this. “What about the kids?”

“At least two of the kids,” Bacta decides. “Or Hessa by herself, because she could take care of you. But do  _ not _ repeat that to them.”

“Just Hessa or any pair,” Tamlin repeats. “And we’re only going in the shallow parts.”

“We’re only going in the shallow parts, and we’re leaving when it’s time to go.”

Tamlin nods again and then visibly pauses. Bacta’s just about to ask what’s going on when Tamlin rushes forward and wraps his arms around Bacta’s legs.

“Whoa!” Bacta plants a hand between Tamlin’s shoulders. “You wanna give me a second so I can hug you back?”

Tamlin nods and steps back. Bacta drops down to his knees and opens his arms, and Tamlin shuffles in, burying his face in Bacta’s neck.

“Everything okay?” Bacta asks, despite himself. He’s not surprised when Tamlin nods, but it instantly eases the knot in his stomach anyways.

It takes another minute for Tamlin to speak, and when he does, his voice is quiet and thin and still very, very sure. “I love you, Uncle Bacta.”

Bacta’s heart clenches, and he gives Tamlin the most careful squeeze he can. “I love you too, Tama.”

“I know,” Tamlin says, with a strange degree of certainty. “That’s why you’re going to the beach with me even though you don’t like beaches.”

“That’s exactly why,” Bacta agrees. He can feel Tamlin smile into his neck, and he knows that he should let go, but he holds on for another second anyways.

 

#

 

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

Beach day pic.twitter.com/a82l3jds

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockleenik

SOME of us are smart enough not to go in the ocean pic.twitter.com/r2k38sod

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockleenik

BETRAYAL @themynockbacta pic.twitter.com/a8d03ksr

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @themynockleenik

Because you wouldn’t go in the ocean if Tamlin asked you?

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockbacta

he hasn’t asked me

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @themynockleenik

Pushover. pic.twitter.com/283ka03l

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockbacta

your godson is very convincing

 

#

 

**Los Angeles, CA**

 

The minute the door is open, Tamlin runs into the house, shouting, “Bort! Mr. Fluffypants! Everybody, I’m home, I’m back!” Bacta takes enough time to lock the door and appreciate the sight of home - of an actual house, with room service in sight - before trailing after Tamlin.

Tamlin is, predictably, lying on his bedroom floor with all of his lizards crawling over him. He looks up at Bacta. “Is Mr. Zevowc here?”

“Mr. Zevowc has a job and things to do other than feeding your lizards.” Bacta sits gingerly on the floor, trying to avoid sitting on a stray gecko. “But we’re gonna give him a nice big gift basket.”

“And pay him?”

“I already paid him.”

“Good.” Tamlin tilts his head back so he’s staring at the ceiling. “I think I like home better than touring.”

“I do too, buddy.”

“Are we gonna tour again?”

“Maybe,” Bacta allows. “It depends on what the band does next.”

“Can I play something on your next album?”

“What do you wanna play?”

Tamlin hums and goes quiet for a minute. “Can Uncle Tryst and Uncle Lyn teach me piano?”

“Uncle Lyn might,” Bacta says. Tamlin is definitely too young to remember the disaster that was Tryst trying to teach Grizelle piano, but Bacta will never forget. “We can work that out later.”

“After I start school?”

“After you start school.”

Tamlin wrinkles his nose. “I don’t wanna start school. I like being here with you.”

Bacta decides this is not a conversation where they can be on different levels, so he lies down on the floor, placing his head as close to Tamlin’s as he can. “Are you worried about school?”

“Mmhm.” Tamlin turns away to face one of the lizards. “I’ve never done it before.”

“It’ll be a chance to make more friends your age.”

“Do I need friends my age?”

“You won’t know until you meet them.”

Tamlin seems to accept that, because he rolls his head back around so he’s looking at Bacta. “Uncle Tryst said I have to go to school or else it’s against the law.”

“That’s right.”

“He also said Mom liked school.”

“She did,” Bacta says, trying not to show how desperately off-guard that catches him. “Your mom did great in school.”

“She met Aunt Aava in college, right?”

“Oh, your mother knew Aunt Aava for a long time before they went to college together.”

Tamlin frowns. “I didn’t know that.”

“You’d have to ask Aunt Aava for all the details there, but they were friends.”

“And Aunt Aava liked school too?”

“You’d have to ask her that too,” Bacta admits. It’s no secret that he and Aava don’t get along after… well. “But she was good at it. Taking tests and retaining information, and all that.”

“And Uncle Leenik might be going? And Uncle Lyn teaches?”

“Yes and yes. So you wouldn’t be the only one in the family going to school.”

Tamlin mulls this over for a minute. “But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Bacta agrees.

“But will you still help me with my homework?”

“Buddy, there’s no homework in kindergarten.”

“Huh.” Tamlin looks back up at the ceiling. “Okay, that’s less scary.”

“We’ll be there to help you if it gets scary.” Bacta nudges Tamlin. “All of us will, okay?”

“Even Aunt Aava?”

Bacta barely hides his wince. “If you asked, I’m sure she would be.”

Tamlin makes a face. “Asking for help is hard.”

“But it’s worth it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Bacta bumps shoulders with him again. “Your mom asked for help raising you, and that’s how you ended up with all the uncles. Isn’t that worth it?”

Tamlin smiles. “That’s worth it.”

They fall into silence for a minute. When Tamlin speaks again, there’s a lizard resting on his forehead. “When are we leaving?”

Bacta checks his phone. “In about forty minutes.”

“Can I take a nap?”

“If you want to.”

“Do I have to get up off the floor?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Do  _ you _ have to get up?”

Bacta pauses. “Not until it’s time to leave.”

“Can we just stay here?”

“Of course we can.”

Tamlin reaches out a hand, and Bacta grabs it, squeezes carefully.

“We should take the lizards with us next time we tour,” Tamlin says after a minute.

Bacta smiles. “We’ll see what we can do, okay, buddy?”

“Okay,” Tamlin says, and goes quiet, and doesn’t let go of Bacta’s hand.

 

#

 

Tamlin, staring up, says, “What does chartreuse mean?”

“It’s a shade of green,” Chartreuse says. She looks uncomfortable, in the way that most people who don’t deal with kids often always look, but at least she’s not being rude to him.

Tamlin points at her hair. “Like that?”

“No, buddy, that’s turquoise,” Bacta murmurs.

“I know  _ that, _ ” Tamlin says. “I wanna know if it’s also called chartreuse.”

“Chartreuse is in between green and yellow,” Chartreuse explains. “Like, if you’ve ever seen a green pear, that’s sort of like chartreuse.”

Tamlin nods. “Are you here to fix Rosie?”

“Rosie?”

“Our keyboard,” Bacta says dryly. “I’ll show you to your patient.”

“Do we have to watch her fix Rosie?” Tamlin whispers as they start walking, probably loudly enough for Chartreuse to hear.

“We don’t have to,” Bacta whispers back. “If you want to, because you like watching-” he nearly says Leenik’s name, but he catches himself- “other people fix things, then we can ask her.”

“I wanna play auditorium hide and seek.”

“We can do that too.”

“Do you play that a lot?” Chartreuse asks. It sounds horribly stilted. Bacta appreciates that she’s trying.

“I play it with Neemo sometimes,” Tamlin answers. “And Uncle Tryst, but he’s really bad at it. He likes to just sit down in one of the chairs. Uncle Leenik’s good at it, but he’s busy a lot of the time.”

Chartreuse, who definitely flinched at Leenik’s name, says, “Mmmhm.”

“But I don’t know the last time I played it with Uncle Bacta.”

“I think it’s been a while,” Bacta says.

Tamlin nods. “It’s been a while,” he repeats. “But I still wanna play with you.”

Chartreuse looks at Bacta. “If you go, I can call you when I finish with… Rosie?”

“Rosie,” Tamlin repeats seriously. “You gotta be careful with her, because Uncle Tryst almost had a constriction-”

“Conniption.”

“That too. Just from her not making any noise. So you need to be careful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Chartreuse says seriously. “It’s my job to be careful, kiddo.”

Tamlin nods, apparently satisfied by that. “Uncle Bacta, can I hide while you show Miss Chartreuse where Rosie is?”

“No going in the balcony,” Bacta says automatically. “And if anyone who works here tells you no-”

“I listen, because I’m playing with you and not Uncle Tryst,” Tamlin says dutifully. Bacta opens his mouth to say that that’s definitely not the rule, but Tamlin’s already running off towards the seats. “Thanks, Uncle Bacta!”

Bacta sighs. “Half of parenting is picking your battles,” he says.

Chartreuse snorts. “I could never do what you’re doing, you know.”

“What, adopting your friend’s kid? Not nearly as hard as it looks.”

She smiles, but it looks a little wan, and it falls away within seconds. “Listen, I know that you got my number from Leenik, and if it’s all right, I’d really rather not see him.”

“He won’t be here for another hour, odds are,” Bacta reassures her. “You’ll have plenty of time.”

“I’ll be out of here in forty-five minutes,” she says grimly, and Bacta wants to ask what happened so badly that he can feel it in his jaw, almost slipping out of his mouth. He wants to understand Leenik - all of them, all his family, but especially quiet, careful Leenik.

“All right,” he says instead, and it hurts somewhere in his gut, but he  _ has _ to let it go. “Let’s introduce you to Rosie.

 

#

 

Chartreuse calls Bacta between rounds of auditorium hide and seek, which Bacta is doing embarrassingly badly at. He turns to Tamlin. “We need to go check on Rosie.”

Tamlin nods seriously as they head backstage. “Because Uncle Tryst will have a conduction.”

“A conniption.”

“What is that?”

“It means he’s going to freak out.”

“Wasn’t he already freaking out?”

Bacta snorts. “Not the way that he’d freak out if Rosie isn’t okay.”

“Where did Uncle Tryst get Rosie?”

“His older sister.”

Tamlin tilts his head. “The one I’m not allowed to meet?”

“No, not Rendezvous. It was a hand-me-down from his sister Christmas.” It was a gift for their first tour, one that Christmas had given jokingly. Rosie had been completely unplayable. Leenik had fixed her up, a little gingerly, and had warned that it was a temporary fix, but Tryst had insisted that it was perfect. There’s an old video somewhere of Tryst playing Rosie for the first time, with Bacta and Grizelle singing along. He might have to find that. Tamlin would like it.

“Uncle Tryst has  _ two _ sisters?” 

“Three, actually.”

Tamlin stops in his tracks and looks at Bacta. “Uncle Bacta, can I have a sister?”

“That’s a big question,” Bacta says, or more accurately, some part of Bacta says while the rest goes  _ shit shit shit. _

“You adopted me,” Tamlin says patiently. “So you can adopt me a sister, right?”

“Technically,” Bacta hedges. “Although I’m not-”

“You’re a good uncle-dad,” Tamlin pleads, and Bacta’s heart stops. “You can be a good uncle-dad for a sister, right?”

Bacta takes a deep breath, just to remind himself to keep breathing, and kneels down, placing a hand on Tamlin’s shoulder as he does. “Tamlin. You are a wonderful kid, and I wouldn’t mind having other wonderful kids. But I want to make sure that I take care of you before I try and take care of anyone else. Is that okay?”

Tamlin nods, and Bacta squeezes his shoulder before getting to his feet. “Ready to check on Rosie?”

“Ready!” And Tamlin, being five, sprints the rest of the way backstage. Bacta entertains sprinting after him for about half a second before he decides to speed-walk. Chartreuse was good with him earlier, it’ll be fine.

“Hi, Miss Chartreuse!” Tamlin says as Bacta rounds a corner. “How’s Rosie doing?”

“She’s gonna be just fine, kid,” Chartreuse answers. She meets Bacta’s eyes as soon as she can see him. “Should be as good as new.”

“That’s pretty good, since we got her used,” Bacta says dryly.

Chartreuse snorts. “Then she’ll be like a whole new woman.”

“Our pianist will be thrilled.”

“I’m sure he will.”

“He’s gonna love it,” Tamlin says seriously, and then cranes his neck at something Bacta can’t quite see. “Oh! Hi, Uncle Leenik!”

Chartreuse stiffens visibly. “I-”

“Hi, Tamlin,” Leenik says. He sounds more brittle than Bacta has heard in years.

Tamlin either doesn’t notice or ignores it. “I got to see the lizards! And they’re all doing great, and Mister Zevowc fed them all, and I bet he even learned all their names after all those times I Skyped them.”

When Bacta looks over, Leenik is forcing a smile - and does it ever look forced. “I don’t think I even know all their names.”

“I can quiz you. How’s Tony?”

“Tony?” Chartreuse repeats, something dangerous in her voice.

Leenik doesn’t take his eyes off Tamlin. His hands are twitching at his sides. “My pit bull.”

Chartreuse’s jaw clenches. “You named your-”

“Tony’s doing great,” Leenik says. “Aava took good care of him while we were gone, but I know he missed me.”

Tamlin looks from Chartreuse to Leenik. His voice is wobbly when he speaks again. “Uncle Leenik?”

Leenik exhales. “Yeah, Tamlin?”

“Can I give you a hug?”

Leenik nods jerkily, and Tamlin rushes forward and throws his arms around Leenik’s legs. Leenik pats his back almost absently, like he’s not really thinking about it. He’s still not looking anywhere near Chartreuse.

Bacta takes the opportunity to step towards Chartreuse. “Thank you for fixing the piano. If you don’t mind-”

“I’ll call you later to bill you,” she says, and practically flies out of the room.

Bacta closes his eyes for a moment. Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid. _ Leenik was clearly uncomfortable with her, he should’ve warned him about this. He should’ve taken steps instead of relying on dumb luck. He shouldn’t have let this happen.

When he opens his eyes, Leenik is sitting on the floor now, still hugging Tamlin, looking off towards a corner of the room.

“Leenik?” Bacta says cautiously. “You okay?”

“M’fine,” Leenik says, oddly choked, and it’s only now that Bacta realizes that Leenik isn’t looking at him, either.


	4. Los Angeles (Night One)

**THURSDAY**

 

As soon as Aava opens the door, Leenik pushes his way into her apartment, a bottle of wine in each hand. She watches him in silence as he goes over to her couch, and as he sets one bottle on the coffee table, and then as he looks at her expectantly. His eyes are already glassy, and judging by the way he’s walking, he’s not sober. “Well?”

“Well,” Aava says, “I’m surprised you’re here.”

Leenik frowns. “Why’s that?”

Aava lifts a hand and ticks off one finger. “A, you don’t normally visit me.” Another finger. “B, you just got back from an incredibly long tour, I’m surprised you’re not at home with Tony.” Leenik grimaces at that; Aava ticks off another finger. “And C, you said when you came to pick him up that tonight was your big post-tour family dinner.”

“Oh, right.” Leenik scowls at the bottle he’s holding. “I’m skipping that.”

“Any reason?”

“Yes, there’s a reason. Do you have a corkscrew?”

Aava points at him. “You’re dishing.”

“Why?”

“Because you just showed up at my house. Call it your rent payment for when I let you crash on my couch.”

Leenik sighs. “Drinking, then dishing?”

“Deal.” Aava goes off to the kitchen. “Do you want stemmed or stemless glasses?”

“Glasses? No, I brought us a bottle each, it’s fine.”

“Some of us have things to do tomorrow.” Aava frowns. “Actually, I think both of us have things to do tomorrow, aren’t you performing?”

“Does that mean I can’t drink the full bottle?”

“It might mean that you shouldn’t. Stemmed or stemless?”

“Stemless. Are you sure?”

“Do you want to play your rock and roll concert hungover?”

When Aava returns with the corkscrew and glasses, Leenik is gazing mournfully at the wine bottle in his hand. He looks up at her, with his best kicked puppy look. “The worst part is that I know you’re right.”

“Must be hard dealing with that.” Aava plops down on the couch next to him; he plucks the corkscrew from her hand and uncorks a bottle. “Are we dishing now?”

“Not till I’m two glasses in.”

“Please. Half a glass.”

“One glass.”

Aava sighs, as though she didn’t know that that’d be his counter-offer, and as though that wasn’t her plan to begin with. “One glass, then feelings.”

Leenik makes a face, but he pours their glasses and snatches his out of her hand. “Are there rules about how fast I can drink the glass?”

“If I finish mine before yours, then that’s when we talk.”

“No, that’s how slow, I said how fast.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Good,” Leenik says, and chugs his glass.

Aava moves the open bottle away from Leenik and sips at her own glass. He gets like this sometimes, where he’ll do anything to avoid actually talking about what’s wrong. She’s no therapist, but she’ll listen, and he wouldn’t go to a therapist anyways. And besides, he always brings her wine, so it’s not like this is this is selfless on her part.

Leenik looks at her and blinks a couple times. “Refill?”

Aava hums and takes another sip. “Not till feelings.”

“I could go talk to Bacta instead, you know.”

“You could. But you’re here.”

“Yeah.” Leenik sighs, and all the tension leaks out of him. He goes boneless all at once, sagging against Aava’s shoulder.

Aava waits it out. They got all of their small talk out of the way earlier when he came to pick up Tony. She doesn’t have it in her to ask how the tour went, or how Tryst is doing, or any other banal questions.

After about a minute of Aava sipping wine in silence, Leenik groans. “I saw Chartreuse and it’s kind of my own fault and I think she hates me and I’m not sure she’s wrong.”

Aava thinks about that and knocks back the rest of her wine in one gulp.

“Refill,” Leenik says, a little impatiently.

“Mm.” Aava wipes away a stray rivulet of wine at the corner of her mouth. “That’s not feelings, that’s a situation update.”

“Semantics. Half glass?”

“Tell me why you saw her.”

Leenik sighs. “Tryst’s keyboard broke.”

“The one his sister gave him?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“The really shitty old one?”

“Yeah. Rosie.”

“Was he losing his shit?”

“Oh, completely.”

Aava smiles. “So. The keyboard broke.”

“And Chartreuse is good at fixing things, and I figured she could probably tune it up and stuff, so I told Bacta to call her, and then I ran into her.” Leenik sighs again, so hard that it pushes his head off Aava’s shoulder and into her lap. “And she hates me.”

“Does she?”

“I saw her face, she definitely hates me.”

“What did she do?”

Leenik grimaces. “Ran away.”

“And what did you do?”

“I’m not sure.”

Aava looks down at Leenik with her best not-buying-it bemused look. “Those hours are just lost to you?”

Leenik shrugs. “We rehearsed, and then our opening act rehearsed, and we went out for dinner together. And after about an hour I left early. Said I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Did anyone buy it?”

“Bacta definitely didn’t.” Leenik pauses. “The kids were all caught up in each other, they’re off in their own little world.”

“That’s your opening act?”

“Mmhm, they’re not half bad. Tamlin was worried, and I’d feel bad about that if he knew what was wrong. Tryst and Lyn were…” he makes a face. “I think they knew something was up, but they didn’t want to let on that they knew that something was up.”

“That sounds like Tryst,” Aava admits. “You could always-”

“Don’t say it.”

“It’s been seven years, Leenik.”

“They’re not going to look at me the same way.”

“That’s not a bad thing! If they know that this is a problem, then they’ll know how to help you.”

Leenik’s face twists into something painful. “I don’t want them to think something’s wrong with me because of where I’m from.”

Aava sighs. “Tryst didn’t leave the state of Arizona until he was twenty-one, is something wrong with him?”

Leenik’s face snaps into something offended. “Of course not.”

“Bacta was in the military and he’s still working through everything that comes with, is something wrong with him?”

“Okay, I see your point, but-”

“Our histories don’t have to make us who we are,” Aava says quietly. “If I’m more than the decades I spent in a bad family, then you’re more than your brother dying.”

“I think that’s a false equivalency,” Leenik says, and that’s how she knows that he can’t really argue. “Or maybe a strawman, one of those argumentative fallacies.”

“It’s definitely not a strawman.”

“Don’t look at me, I never went to college.” And then Leenik snaps his jaw shut with an audible click.

Aava sighs. “If I give you another half a glass, will you tell me what that’s about?”

“Do I have to?”

“Do you want wine?”

“I don’t have to take this, you know. I could be drinking alone.”

“If you wanted to drink alone, you wouldn’t be here.”

Leenik closes his eyes. “Fine, half a glass.”

Aava grabs his shoulder and drags him upright before pouring them each another half glass. Leenik’s a couple sips in before he says, almost absently, “What’s new with you, anyways?”

“Someone I know dislocated his hip,” she offers, swirling her wine around. “Work’s been boring.”

“Manage any good talent lately?”

“Good talent? In Hollywood?”

Leenik snorts and gulps down some more wine. “I mean, we’re here, right? The Mynock?”

“My point exactly,” Aava says. He shoots her a wounded look, and she laughs. “Oh, quiet.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it.”

“Do you think I should go to college?”

“Community or four-year?” Aava asks without thinking.

Leenik frowns. “I don’t know.”

“You could always start with community college. It’s a little looser, a good way to get back in the academic swing of things.”

“You were fine at a four-year school.”

Aava pauses, wineglass already at her lips. “I think that’s… a little different.”

People have told Aava before that she grew up in a cult. She doesn’t necessarily think that’s true, although maybe she’s not the best judge of her own trauma. All she knows is that her family loved her, and they always made it clear what she had to do to earn that love. She would stay with her family, unless she married someone. She would keep the faith. She would go to a four-year school, preferably the one in the city. She would be everything they taught her to be, and she would pass that onto any children she raised.

She and Grizelle had fought tooth and nail for the chance to leave the state for education. Utah, they’d argued, wasn’t the entire world, and they’d be better if they knew what was out there. They’d had to move to Phoenix together, and Grizelle had taken to it instantly, like she knew that this world was better. Aava had only wanted to get through university to return home, but Grizelle had always wanted to cut ties. Aava envies that, sometimes.

Leenik must realize what he’s skirting around, because he changes tack immediately. “Is it bad starting with community college?”

“Not at all. It’s probably cheaper, too.”

“You know that’s not really an issue, right?”

Aava rolls her eyes and drinks. Being friends with a platinum-selling artist is exhausting. “Just because it’s not an issue doesn’t mean it’s not  _ nice. _ ”

“That’s true,” Leenik admits. “Aava?”

“Leenik.”

“I like you.”

She smiles. She can’t help herself. “I like you too, bright eyes.”

Leenik positively beams at her. She half expects him to say something else, but he just keeps grinning at her, like she’s doing something helpful. Like she’s doing something good.

“I’m getting you water,” she decides, because she can’t let him keep looking at her like that, and because she’s sure that whatever version of this story Bacta hears tomorrow will end with her getting Leenik drunk. The least she can do is make sure he’s not hungover, too.

“Okay,” Leenik says as she gets to her feet. “Can you take me home?”

“Absolutely not, you knew you were staying the night when you showed up.”

“Yeah, but Tony misses me.”

“He can miss you for one more night.”

Leenik makes a face. She doesn’t see it from the kitchen, but she knows him, and he definitely makes a face. “Am I a bad mom?”

“You came back for him, that makes you all right in my book.”

“You and I are in no position to judge families.”

Aava hands him a glass of water. “Maybe,” she says quietly.

Leenik finishes his wine before taking the water. “Do you talk to your family?”

“Never. Do you?”

“I don’t have much in the way of blood family,” Leenik says, and then grimaces. “That was bad to say.”

“But it was true,” she says, noncommittal. “What about family that isn’t blood?”

“You know I don’t talk to them about this.”

“Why not?”

Leenik closes his eyes. “We don’t need to go over this again.”

“I think we might.” Aava sits carefully next to him on the couch, and he slumps into her side, water sloshing dangerously. “I’m more than happy to listen to you if you need it, you know that, but it’s not the same if it’s me.”

“Why not?”

“Because the band is your family now, and I’m not in the band.”

“I think you and Bacta should talk.”

Aava feels her eyebrows rise. “And why’s that?”

“Because you knew Grizelle better than any of us.” Leenik takes a drink of water; Aava takes advantage of the opportunity to roll her eyes. “And because you didn’t mean to kidnap Tamlin that one time-”

“It wasn’t-”

“-and because you’re friends with me, and with Tryst, and I don’t like that you and Bacta don’t get along.”

Aava carefully bites her cheek, because Leenik doesn’t understand. She knows that technically, and legally speaking, she kidnapped Tamlin, but they all know that it was an accident. She hadn’t known that Grizelle had named Bacta as Tamlin’s legal guardian in the event of her death. She hadn’t even known that Grizelle had a will. All she knew was that Grizelle was her best friend, and Aava was supposed to be the godmother to her children. And then Grizelle had died, and as far as Aava knew, she was suddenly the guardian of an eighteen-month-old baby.

Bacta insists - or he did, the last time that Aava argued with him about it - that Aava shouldn’t have done it. And she knows that on some level he’s right. But at the time, all she had known was the family, and the faith, and that Tamlin was hers. So she took him home. More out of habit than because she wanted to raise him there, but habit is a powerful creature. And it turned out, of course, that she had actually taken Bacta’s legal ward across state lines, which was a definite felony. Bacta declined to press charges, mostly for Tamlin’s sake, but he hasn’t forgiven Aava. He said he understood brainwashing but he didn’t understand what she did.

Aava doesn’t want his understanding. She just wants to see her godson regularly.

“Tell you what,” she decides. “If you talk to them about your brother, then I’ll sit down with Bacta and talk about… all that.”

“I don’t want to,” Leenik says plaintively.

Aava wraps her arm around his shoulders. “I don’t want to talk to Bacta either. But sometimes we do things we don’t want to do for people we like.”

“Mmph.” Leenik’s head drops onto her shoulder. “I don’t like it when you’re right.”

“But I am right.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to get blankets for you?”

“Do you have to get up?”

Aava isn’t working tomorrow. She’s visiting Blue in the hospital, sure, but she’s not working. She’s half tempted to lie and say yes, that she can’t stay, that she has to retreat to the safety of her own bedroom where she can avoid thinking about the past if she wants.

“No,” she says, and she stays.

 

#

 

Tryst calls about twenty minutes after Leenik falls asleep on her shoulder. “He’s with you?”

“He’s with me.” Aava glances over. He’s not drooling yet, but he’s definitely going to start. She can tell. “He’s kind of sloshed.”

Tryst sighs. “Do you need me to pick him up?”

“Not at all. He can stay on my couch.”

“Is he… y’know, okay?”

Aava thinks about it for a couple seconds. “No less so than usual,” she decides, because whether or not Leenik always expresses it, she’s pretty sure that he’s always this sad.

“That’s not encouraging,” Tryst mutters.

“It’s the best I can tell you.”

“I know.” He’s quiet for a couple seconds, and then: “So. What are you wearing?”

Aava snorts before she can help herself. “Your best friend is asleep literally on top of me right now.”

“So? Wake him up, he can be a part of this.”

“You think he’d be interested?”

“Dunno,” Tryst says thoughtfully. Too thoughtfully. “Do you?”

She feels like it’s a joke, maybe, but she can’t resist giving an honest answer. “I think he’d at least listen if we asked him.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh,” Tryst says. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Aava repeats. “I’m hanging up now, I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Wait, we’re not talking about this now?”

“Tryst, he’s drunk.”

“What’s your point?”

“Asking him if he wants to date us when we’re barely dating each other is a sober conversation. For all three of us.”

“The fact that I know you’re right doesn’t make me resent it any less.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” Aava smiles. God, these idiots. “Good night, Tryst.”

“Good night, Aava,” Tryst says. She can practically see him rolling his eyes as he hangs up.

Aava looks back down at Leenik, still fast asleep on her shoulder. She knows that in a minute she’s going to have to get up and go to bed properly, and maybe emotionally deal with asking her casual boyfriend to date a mutual friend, but for now, maybe she’ll live a little longer with Leenik asleep on her shoulder. There are surely worse fates.

 

#

 

**FRIDAY**

 

“Oh, god,” Blue says as soon as he sees Aava. “Are those flowers?”

“They are.” Aava can’t even hide her amusement; she’s smirking and she knows it. “But not for you.” And with that she turns to Zero and holds the bouquet out. “As a reward for putting up with him.”

“I’m touched,” Zero says, laced with so much sarcasm that Aava thinks he might actually mean it. He takes the bouquet and glances at Blue. “Hey. I got you flowers.”

Blue shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“What, you don’t appreciate my gifts?”

“Not when you’re regifting.”

“Primadonna,” Zero mutters, and Blue sniffs at him. It takes more effort than Aava wants to admit to keep her smirk from turning genuine. “You wanna sit down, A? Stay a while?”

“No,” Blue says immediately.

Aava, for the express purpose of fucking with Blue, sits in the chair next to Zero. It’s uncomfortable, because hospital chairs are probably required by some law to be uncomfortable. “So how did you dislocate your hip again?”

“We don’t have to do this,” Blue says. “You already know.”

“I know, but I want to hear you say it.”

Blue casts a pleading look at Zero, who’s suddenly very interested in the flowers, and then sighs. “I fell down the stairs.”

“You are a mess of a human,” Aava informs him. “Really, a disaster. I can’t wait to see you on crutches.”

“Oh, god, please,” Zero says instantly. “Anything to get him out of this fucking bed.”

“I don’t think you’re the one who has to be bothered by me being bedbound,” Blue says, and there’s a note in his voice that makes Aava sit up a little straighter. Some kind of a challenge, maybe.

Zero scoffs, apparently unbothered. “Yeah, I’m gonna leave my boyfriend alone in the hospital when he can’t walk, sounds good. You would’ve been even more insufferable without me there.”

“I don’t think being unhappy with a dislocated hip makes me insufferable.”

“That’s funny, considering I’ve been suffering.”

Aava thinks that maybe she was the one suffering, since she was also the one who had to drag Zero down to the cafeteria and make sure that he ate instead of just wasting away at Blue’s bedside, and Zero’s no fun when he’s moping. But it’s too much fun watching them snipe at each other to say anything about that.

Blue, for his part, rolls his eyes at Zero. “Then you could’ve left.”

“Yeah,” Zero says. “That was an option. Top of the list. Of course.”

Blue makes the same face that he always does when he’s confronted with genuine emotion in front of other people: one part affection, and at least four parts constipation. It’s there and gone in an instant before he looks at Aava. “Synox sent me flowers, you know.”

Aava raises her eyebrows. “Did he?”

“I think he had Fentara send flowers,” Zero mutters.

Blue ignores him. “I didn’t think he would.”

“Neither did I,” Aava admits. “Are you sure Fentara didn’t just send the flowers and put Sy’s name on it?”

Both Zero and Blue pause as they process that. “Maybe,” Blue allows after a few seconds.

Zero shakes his head. “Nah, Sy’s a genuine guy.”

“And he genuinely forgets Blue exists when he can,” Aava finishes, quirking an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” Blue says again. “Or maybe he’s a good friend, unlike some people.”

“I’m a good friend!” Aava protests. “Look, I gave Zero flowers, that’s friendship.”

“I meant a good friend to me.”

“Oh, I’m a terrible friend to you.”

Zero snorts. “At least she knows it.”

“I know it,” Aava agrees. “And I want coffee. Zero, do you-”

“He can get it,” Blue says quickly. “Right, Zero?”

Zero casts a strange look at Blue. “Are you asking me to leave you both alone?”

“You haven’t walked around much lately, get up and go.”

“Flimsy,” Zero says, but he still sets down the flowers and gets to his feet. “I can’t get you any.”

“Yeah, painkillers, whatever.”

Zero glances at Aava. “You take yours black?”

“Blacker than my soul, if you can manage it,” Aava confirms, and Zero brushes his fingers against her shoulder as he leaves.

Blue clears his throat. Aava raises an eyebrow. He narrows his eyes. “I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you either,” she answers. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re cold and distant.”

“Glad we had this talk.”

“But,” Blue says, and he’s palpably choking on frustration, “Zero likes you. And apparently you’ve been dragging him to eat while I’ve been doped out on painkillers.”

“Or napping,” Aava says.

Blue winces, because he knows her and has probably guessed that she has a  _ lot _ of blackmail pictures of him slack-jawed and drooling. “Look, I’m trying to say something here.”

“Nobody’s stopping you, hotshot.”

“I appreciate you looking after him,” Blue says stiffly.

Aava could drag this out and she’s pretty sure he’d let her, too. She could drag him through hell and back trying to get him to say thank you. This may be as close as he gets, though, and the guy dislocated his hip. Not even Aava is that cold. “He’s my friend.”

“I know that.”

“And I want him to be in one piece too.”

“Jesus, I get it, it’s not about me, but you’re still helping him,” Blue snaps.

Aava raises her eyebrows. “Do you want me to get out of here before you get too worked up?”

“God, yes,” Blue says fervently. Aava flicks him a mock salute before she gets to her feet. “And if you see Synox, or Fentara, say thanks for the flowers.”

“Synox won’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Probably not, but tell him anyways.”

“I will,” Aava says. “It’ll freak him out.”

Blue flashes a sharp grin. “Exactly.”

Aava smiles to herself as she leaves. Blue is kind of a shit, but he has his moments.

“Hey,” Zero’s voice says. When she glances over, he’s looking at her quizzically, a cup of coffee in each hand. “He okay in there?”

“Yeah.” Aava reaches out, and Zero hands her one of the cups. “I think he just tried to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Oh, god, did he pull a muscle?”

“It was a close thing,” she admits, and Zero laughs quietly. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”

Zero shrugs and takes a long drink of his own coffee. “He’s an acquired taste. But he’s a good one.”

“You two are a good fit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Aava smiles. “Get back in there, keep your boy company. I won’t be here to drag you out to lunch, but I’ll text you.”

Zero nods and reaches out a hand. Aava takes it, and he squeezes hers. “Thank you. I know you guys aren’t close, but thank you for visiting. And the flowers.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“No, the least you could’ve done was nothing, and neither of us would’ve thought twice about it.” Zero shakes his head. “Now you’ve probably gone and confused him.”

“I live to confuse him,” Aava says, and Zero laughs as he lets go of her hand. “I’ll visit again, really drive it home.”

“I can hear you,” Blue calls out petulantly. “And may I remind you that I’m injured.”

“I don’t think you’d let us forget,” Zero answers. Blue makes an indignant noise.

Aava grins. “I’ll see you two around,” she says, and starts down the hall, heels clicking on the hospital floor.

 

#

 

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

mid-morning Beatles covers pic.twitter.com/uzle3w9d

**thomas** @thomass   
Replying to @themynockleenik

Tryst’s #influence at work

**a regular pollyanna** @stardancing   
Replying to @themynockleenik

you should sing more, beatles or otherwise. (hard day’s night??)

**Riley B** @rileybread   
Replying to @themynockleenik

omg the acoustics wherever you are are lovely!

 

#

 

**To: Leenik Geelo** **  
** Are you still in my apartment?

**To: Leenik Geelo** **  
** And I saw the Twitter video so keep that in mind when you answer.

**From: Leenik Geelo** **  
** maybe

**To: Leenik Geelo** **  
** Why are you still in my apartment?

**From: Leenik Geelo** **  
** i’ll buy lunch and give you a ticket and backstage pass to tonight if you do my concert makeup

**To: Leenik Geelo** **  
** I pick what’s for lunch.

**From: Leenik Geelo** **  
** of course you do

**To: Leenik Geelo** **  
** And I’m picking Thai.

**From: Leenik Geelo** **  
** not that you’re predictable or anything but I already ordered it

**To: Leenik Geelo** **  
** Of course you did.

**From: Leenik Geelo** **  
** it’ll be here when you get back from errands

**From: Leenik Geelo** **  
** so, y’know, not to rush you or anything, but.

**To: Leenik Geelo** **  
** I’ll be back soon.

 

#

 

“I’m just saying, I think it’s worth a shot,” Leenik says, blinking wide-eyed at Aava.

“Stop blinking and close your eyes,” Aava sighs. He shuts his eyes obediently, and she leans in with her eyeliner. “And I’m telling you, no matter what you think of me-”

“And Tryst.”

“What about Tryst?”

“He likes you too.”

Aava snorts before she can help herself. Leenik cracks one eye open to glare at her, and she shakes her head. “Believe me, I know he does.”

“No, I mean as a person. Not just because you’re dating or whatever.”

“Well, I should hope whoever I’m dating likes me as a person. That’s not the point.”

“You’re being difficult.”

“Am I? Close your eye.”

Leenik closes one eye and opens the other. “I’m trying to say nice things to you.”

“Well, that explains why I’m being difficult, I’m not used to that.”

Leenik grimaces. “I don’t think I’m used to saying them either, so we’re figuring this out together. My point is that you’ve got more people on your side than you might think, so if you ask Bacta-”

“Then he’ll let me watch his son for the day even though he hasn’t so much as said hello to me in over three years?”

“You won’t know until you try.”

Aava sighs and sets the eyeliner pen on the counter. She places a hand on Leenik’s jaw and pushes, and he tilts his head obligingly, letting her look at her handiwork. Neither of them are physically intimate people, quite, but they’ve done this so many times that it’s a non-issue. He’s sitting on her bathroom counter, and she’s fixing his makeup, and that’s just how the two of them are. “Do you want mascara?”

“Nah, I’ll probably just pick it off.”

“What color do you want for your lips?”

“What are my options?”

Aava opens a drawer, and Leenik opens his eyes and leans over to look in it. “I can use any of these?”

“Any that you want.”

Leenik hums to himself and then plucks out a tube of bright pink, something that he definitely left there the last time Aava did his makeup. “This one?”

“You’re not much of an edgy rock star, huh?”

“What’s not edgy about neon pink?”

Aava smiles. “I guess it’s kind of glam rock.”

“Exactly.” Leenik grins at her, sudden and triumphant, and Aava’s not proud of the way her heart stutters to a stop for a second. He’s just so sad, so entrenched in old losses, and she knows the list of things that make him smile like that is fantastically short. Maybe she’s lucky to be on it.

She starts swiping the lipstick onto his lips. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll go with you to the stadium, and I’ll tell Bacta I want to talk to him. And if he doesn’t seem like he wants to kill me with the power of his brain during  _ that _ conversation, I’ll ask about watching Tamlin. But  _ you _ have to make plans for an emergency band meeting, or something like that. Press your lips together.”

Leenik glares balefully at her as he rubs his lips together. He smacks them a couple of times and then says, “That’s not how band meetings work.”

“Isn’t it? I don’t remember all your rules.”

“Formal meetings are every other Monday and to debrief from tours and recording sessions.”

“Don’t you have a provision for personal crises?”

“Not a formal one.”

“You could institute one,” Aava suggests. “Now is a great time for new rules.”

“Aava, the end of a tour isn’t the time to disrupt a routine.” Leenik shakes his head at her. “Honestly, you were there when we came up with the original rules.”

“That was six years ago.”

“We all remember them, why don’t you?”

“Because I don’t have to?”

“You’re an honorary member, you should learn the rules.”

Aava raises her eyebrows. “Since when am I an honorary member?”

“We each get two honoraries. Mine are you and Tony.”

“What about your author guy?”

“I think he’s Bacta’s?” Leenik frowns. “Or he might be an actual member at this point, I need a refresher on the honorary rules.”

“Ha!” Aava opens a drawer and pulls out a fluffy brush and a palette of glitter that was definitely also Leenik’s at some point. “So you admit that even you can’t keep track of them all.”

“I have more to keep track of than you do.”

“Not an excuse.”

“Perfect excuse.”

Aava starts dusting glitter on Leenik’s cheeks. “Make all the excuses you want. But promise me you’ll find a way to bring up your problems, and I will too.”

Leenik waits until she moves her hand away and then nods at her. “Promise. Can I see?”

She takes a step back. “You can see.”

He jumps off the counter and turns to examine his reflection, and his mouth forms a perfect O. “Whoa.”

“You ready, rock star?”

“We need to go back to my place and pick a good outfit.” Leenik turns and looks at her expectantly. “If that’s okay with you.”

Aava laughs, a little helplessly. “You know what, bright eyes, I think I can live with that.”

 

#

 

As soon as the two of them walk backstage, Tryst whistles loudly. “Hel- _ lo, _ ladies.”

“Aava did my makeup,” Leenik says happily. “She’s better at eyeliner than you.”

Tryst snorts. “Buddy, that’s not news to anyone.”

“Least of all to you,” Aava murmurs as she looks around. Tamlin is nowhere to be seen. The new singer, who Aava’s met all of twice, is talking to a group of college-age kids - the opening act, if Aava were to guess. And Bacta is off to one side, giving Aava an unapologetically wary look. She looks away from him.

“Wow, you don’t need to insult my eyeliner skills like that,” Tryst says, although he clearly doesn’t actually care. “Hey, since we’re all here, do we want to have that, uh, that big conversation we were talking about?”

“Big conversation?” Leenik repeats, shooting Aava an unreadable look.

Aava frowns at Tryst. “Is now really the best time?”

“Can you think of a better one?”

“Sometime that isn’t before you two go perform a sold-out concert?”

“Well, there’s no need to put it off any longer.”

“Uh,” Leenik says, looking faintly alarmed. “What are we not putting off?”

Tryst looks at Aava and then, deliberately, grabs her hand. She takes a step closer to him, and Tryst takes a deep breath. “You wanna date us?”

Leenik narrows his eyes and looks between their faces and their hands. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Tryst says patiently.

“We can give it a trial run if you’d like,” Aava offers. “We don’t need an answer right now.”

Tryst frowns. “Uh, we would  _ like _ one-”

Aava elbows him. “But if you need time to think about it, take as much as you need.”

“Or as little as you need.”

“Tryst-”

“Okay,” Leenik says.

Tryst blinks. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Leenik repeats, more firmly, and leans forward and smacks a kiss directly onto Tryst’s lips. Aava barely has time to react before he turns to her and does the same, nothing but a brief, warm press of lips before he’s retreating, looking shy. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Tryst says, looking a little dazed, but he manages a brilliant smile. “We can- we can work on that later, but. Okay.”

“Cool,” Leenik says. His lipstick isn’t smudged. Aava glances at Tryst; there’s no pink on him. A damn shame. “Aava?”

“Yes, Leenik.”

“You should go do that thing we talked about earlier.” He looks deliberately over her shoulder to where Bacta is undoubtedly watching them.

Aava sighs. “I will. You look after my boyfriend, okay?”

“I will,” Tryst and Leenik say at the same time, and then look at each other in confusion.

Aava smiles and squeezes Tryst’s hand before letting go and walking towards Bacta.

“Aava,” he says, looking unimpressed. “I’m not going to date you, you know.”

“I’m not interested, but thank you for the clarification,” Aava says.

Bacta’s glowering only intensifies. “If there’s something I can do for you-”

“Let me take you out for coffee sometime.”

Not that she would ever admit it, but seeing how much that throws him off is maybe the most satisfying moment of Aava’s yeaer. “Excuse me?”

“I told Leenik,” she says, just to see him visibly relax, “that I would try and make nice with you. And I figure since half of your band and I are friends, that might be a good move.”

“What if I’m not interested?”

“Then you’ll try anyways, because you care about Tryst and Leenik.”

“You kidnapped my son.”

“It was a misunderstanding.”

Bacta frowns. “Just because I didn’t press charges-”

“Makes you a better person than me, but that’s not the point.” Aava presses her lips together and decides she has to change tactics. “I know we were never really friends.”

“No, we weren’t,” Bacta agrees, because he’s more of an asshole than most people want to admit. And they weren’t friends, not even when Grizelle was alive. That was never them.

“And I’m not trying to be your friend now. I’m just trying to clear the air.”

Bacta narrows his eyes at her in suspicion. “So is this about Tamlin?”

“Yes,” Aava says candidly. “Or it’s about how I knew Grizelle better than any of you did, and he deserves that link to her. Or it’s about wanting to be on good terms with someone I may be spending more time around. Or I’m just tired of there being bad blood.”

“Never bothered you before.”

“Like I said. I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for Leenik.”

Bacta’s shoulders relax fractionally. “And what if I say no?”

“Then I respect your right to spend your time around whoever you want, and I’ll leave you alone. Just tell Leenik I held up my end.”

“What was his end?”

Aava waves a hand. “Something that’s against some bylaws that you guys have, I can’t keep track.”

“We do have a lot of bylaws,” Bacta admits, and Aava knows that she has him. “Just coffee?”

“Just coffee. We can even set a timer if you want so there’s an end to the conversation.”

Bacta snorts. “I might take you up on that.”

“And I’ll pay,” Aava says, because she might as well.

Bacta nods slowly. “All right. I’ll… text you, or something.”

“Thank you,” Aava says. She’s surprised to realize how much she means it. “Bacta, really. Thank you.”

“I’m doing this for Tamlin,” Bacta says. “Not you.”

“If we can’t make peace for ourselves, we might as well make it for him,” Aava says matter-of-factly, and Bacta nods his agreement. “Also, you should know, I have a front row ticket and a backstage pass for tonight.”

Bacta groans. “Is that why you did Leenik’s makeup?”

“I would’ve done it without the ticket,” Aava admits. “But I’m sticking around.”

“Yeah,” Bacta sighs. “Guess I’ll have to get used to that.”

Aava looks back at Tryst and Leenik. They’re off in their own corner now, heads bent together. Tryst has an arm slung loosely around Leenik’s waist. When he notices her looking, he grins, just for a second, before going back to talking.

She smiles, as carefully as she can manage. “Yeah. I guess you will.”

 

#

 

**Mynock Tour Clips** @mynockclips

Tonight’s tour clip is a cover of CREEP by Radiohead twitter.com/themynockband/status/629374014729

 

#

 

**PATRICIA** @paticaaaakes

the mynock: we’re not like those other bands playing bad songs like wonderwall. anyways here’s creep by radiohead

**ali** @alistairstares   
Replying to @paticaaaakes

at least it was a good cover,,, like damn lyn can sing

**PATRICIA** @paticaaaakes   
Replying to @alistairstares

omg i know… i want her to be my mom

**ali** @alistairstares   
Replying to @paticaaaakes

HARD SAME, ACTUALLY?

**PATRICIA** @paticaaaakes   
Replying to @alistairstares

@.lluroon adopt us please

 

#

 

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

no guerilla filming tonight, check back tomorrow

**Aava Arek** @aava   
Replying to @themynockleenik

pic.twitter.com/a82ldjd9

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @aava

holy shit

 

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

apparently I lied, the guerilla filmer has become the guerilla filmee twitter.com/aavaarek/status/283018472937

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockleenik

@aava why did you film that

**Aava Arek** @aava   
Replying to @themynockleenik

Tryst started serenading you and you thought I wouldn’t film it?

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @aava

point

 

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

last show tomorrow


	5. Los Angeles (Night Two)

**SATURDAY**

 

Now, talking to graves, that’s something that Leenik never understood. Aava says that’s a side effect of never letting himself grieve properly and not being able to conceptualize Venton as being dead, but honestly, he’s not sure how much he trusts her input in the whole situation. He grieved just fine. If you can call cutting ties and running a form of grieving.

It reminds him of losing the arm, in a way. He got into the accident and got pinned and his left arm was gone, from just below his elbow. And that was reality, from then on. That was the way things were, and he accepted that and moved on, and he was fine until the phantom pains started. And then he had to wonder if he’d really moved on at all. It’s like that with Venton, too.

Leenik clears his throat. The grave in front of him doesn’t react.

“This is stupid,” Leenik says, because it  _ is. _ This chunk of rock isn’t his brother. The dirt underneath it isn’t his brother, not anymore. Maybe he has some kind of soul or spirit, some essence of Venton floating around, but it wouldn’t be tied down to this location. There’s no reason to believe that he would be listening.

He kneels down and reaches out with his hand, his real hand, and brushes his fingers against the stone. He wonders sometimes if Venton would recognize him without his left hand. Or now that he’s changed so much. Mostly that second one, because it’s not like Venton used his hand as a way to identify Leenik. But it’s not like the hand is the only piece of himself that Leenik has lost in the past few years.

Leenik takes a deep breath and tries to think of what people say to dead relatives. He’d asked Aava about it once, while they were both drunk, and she’d said to tell Venton everything he wouldn’t already know, but that’s stupid. If Venton were here, he would know everything Leenik could possibly tell him. He would know about Tryst, and about Aava, and Grizelle and Tamlin and the whole band. He would know. He would be there for it all.

“Uh,” he says, and it comes out a little scratchy. “I… I named my dog after you. That’d be different if you were here, I think, so that’s worth telling you. His name’s Tony, not short for Venton, but he’s still a Tony.”

The grave doesn’t answer, because it is a literal stone, but Leenik keeps going, because it’s not like he has anything to lose. “I’m kind of famous now. I’m not a Steve Jobs or anything, I’m actually more of a musician. I always told you-”

His breath hitches. He’d always told Venton he’d learn to play guitar.

“This is stupid,” he says again, and his chest is tightening, there’s a knot behind his ribs, there is a piece of him missing and that piece of him is buried six feet under the dirt beneath him. “You’re not here, you’re not listening, it doesn’t matter if I miss you because it doesn’t  _ fix _ anything.”

“Missing people isn’t supposed to fix anything, dumbass,” someone says behind Leenik.

He yelps and whips around, falling backwards into the dirt in the process. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here.

Chartreuse narrows her eyes down at him. “You look like shit.”

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Leenik mutters. She’s holding flowers. He hadn’t thought to bring flowers. “What are you doing?”

“The same thing you are, probably.”

“I doubt it.”

“I’m allowed to miss him too,” she snaps. “And I didn’t run away after he died.”

“I didn’t run away,” Leenik repeats, but it rings completely hollow to his own ears.

Chartreuse, apparently feeling magnanimous, ignores that. “Budge up, lemme sit next to you.”

Leenik moves over, and Chartreuse kneels down next to him, placing the flowers in front of the grave. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” Leenik says, voice hoarse.

“Tough,” Chartreuse snaps. “You never even told me what happened.”

“He got shot.”

“I know he got shot, I don’t know  _ why. _ ”

_ Because of me, _ Leenik does not say, because she’d ask more questions, and he wouldn’t have the answers. “Because the world is a shitty place,” he offers instead.

“Well, it’s shittier without him.”

“Yeah.”

Chartreuse looks at him. Leenik doesn’t look back at her, but he can feel her searching his face for… something. “You had your friend call me.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“You kind of ruined our whole thing where we ignore one another’s existence.”

“I knew you could fix the keyboard.”

“Lots of people could fix it.”

“Well, yeah.” Leenik shifts uncomfortably. “But you’re the only one who I knew could.”

Chartreuse sighs. “What’re we doing here, Nikki?”

Leenik flinches. “Don’t-”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“It’s been seven years,” Chartreuse says. It’s not an accusation but Leenik feels accused anyways. “Not that that’s- I mean, it takes time to move on, but it’s just a nickname.”

“It was his,” Leenik says. “Only his.”

“Other people can call you nicknames.”

“Not that one.”

“You can’t live like that.”

“I have for seven years.”

Chartreuse shakes her head. “I know you’re a big shot rock star now, and they aren’t exactly known for being well-adjusted, but there has to be a better way than this.”

“I don’t think there is,” Leenik says, maybe to be contrary. Maybe because if this is the best he can do after seven years, he can’t be any better than this. Maybe he’ll just be a walking memorial to his brother. There are worse things he could become.

“I’m not here to help you,” Chartreuse says. “I’m here for him.”

“He would’ve wanted you to help me,” Leenik says. It’s a low blow, and it’s definitely also true.

“He would’ve wanted you to try harder for your own sake,” Chartreuse shoots back, and  _ ouch. _ She’s right, too.

Leenik gets to his feet. “I’m trying,” he says, and he remembers his promise to Aava. Venton would’ve liked Aava, once he got to know her. Maybe he would’ve warned Leenik away at first, but once he saw her as a person and as a friend, he would’ve liked her. He would’ve liked Lyn too. He and Bacta would get on like a house on fire. Would’ve hated Tryst, though. If they ever had the chance to meet.

“Try harder,” Chartreuse says. She doesn’t look up at him.

Leenik swallows. He wishes he had some kind thing to say to her, some heartfelt farewell, but he doesn’t. He just walks away, because it’s all he can bear to do.

He makes it to the gate of the graveyard before he takes a deep, shaky breath and fishes out his phone. He promised Aava. He promised Aava he’d do this.

Bacta picks up on the first ring. “Leenik?”

“Hey,” Leenik says, and he’s proud of how his voice doesn’t quite shake. “I, uh… can you come pick me up from somewhere?”

“Course I can,” Bacta says. Leenik can imagine him jumping to his feet, probably reaching for his car keys already, because that’s just the kind of friend he is. “Where are you?”

Leenik closes his eyes. “North Los Angeles Cemetery?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Bacta says without hesitation, so carefully nonjudgmental that Leenik could  _ cry. _

“Thank you,” Leenik says. His throat is so thick it’s hard to get the words out.

“Any time, buddy,” Bacta says, and the worst part is, he probably means it.

 

#

 

“This isn’t my apartment,” Leenik says slowly.

Bacta doesn’t look at him as he pulls into the driveway. “No, it isn’t.”

“What are we doing at your house?”

“I talked to Aava yesterday before the concert, you probably saw.”

Leenik nods. “We made a deal.”

“She mentioned. She told me that your half of the deal was against some of our bylaws, and I got to thinking, what could be against the bylaws?” Bacta puts the car in park and finally turns to face Leenik. “And then I realized. You can’t request an intervention.”

“Oh my god,” Leenik says. “That wasn’t what we-”

“It is now.” Bacta opens the car door. “Come on.”

“I don’t even remember the intervention etiquette.”

“Lyn and Tryst were brushing up on the rules when I left.”

Leenik groans. “Oh, my god, is this an actual intervention? Is everyone there?”

“Neemo’s not.”

“Neemo’s an honorary member, and honorary members deserve to be there.”

“Did you want me to call Aava, then?”

“Nope,” Leenik says as loudly as he can manage. Because if he lies, Aava will  _ know, _ and nobody gets to know that. “No, just official band members, that’s fine, that’s great.”

“Leenik.”

“I don’t want to do this,” he says plainly, because he might as well lay out all his cards on the table.

Bacta pauses and swings the car door shut. “We don’t have to do a formal intervention.”

“We don’t?”

“Not at all. This can be unofficial, like a preparation for our tour debrief.”

“But?”

“But you’re going to have to tell us what’s wrong,” Bacta says. “And don’t… don’t try to say it’s nothing. Because if you’ve been considering going to college, then that’s stress that you’re not sharing. And I just picked you up from a  _ cemetery. _ I didn’t even know you had someone to mourn.”

Leenik shrinks into himself. He can’t help it. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Bacta sighs, and he’s disappointed now, and that’s almost as bad as him being kind. “I know you don’t, buddy, but we don’t want you to deal with these things alone.”

“What if I want to deal with them alone?”

“Do you?”

“I don’t know how to deal with them with other people,” Leenik says before he can help it, and he turns away, because he doesn’t want to see whatever Bacta’s feeling.

“And we might not know how to help you,” Bacta says. He lifts a hand. Leenik can feel it hovering in the space near his shoulder, not quite touching him. “But we want to try.”

Leenik swallows. “It can be unofficial?”

“Tamlin still might make us wear the intervention hats, but we don’t have to follow all the procedures.”

“Lyn and Tryst might not like that.”

“Lyn and Tryst can live with it.” Bacta’s hand settles on his shoulder, light but steady, and Leenik is more grateful for that than he could say. “You ready?”

“Probably not.”

“You going anyways?”

Leenik takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

Tamlin is standing in the front door as they approach, looking solemnly up at them, a baseball cap in each hand. He has a matching cap on his head. “Before you enter the house, we would like to ask that you put on the intervention hats.”

Bacta takes both of the hats. “Thanks, buddy. Can you go tell your uncles we’re doing an unofficial intervention?”

“Unofficial intervention?” Tamlin looks between them, and whatever he sees on Leenik’s face makes his lower lip start wobbling, which is maybe the worst thing that could possibly happen. “Uncle Leenik, are you okay?”

“We’re gonna talk about that in a minute,” Leenik answers, which definitely doesn’t reassure Tamlin, but it’s the most he can do right now. “Just go let them know, okay?”

“Okay,” Tamlin whispers, and runs off.

Bacta hands Leenik a baseball cap. “Technically you get to choose the intervention snacks, but I think Tryst guessed what you were going pick, so he actually picked the intervention snacks.”

“What did he pick?”

“I think it was popcorn.”

“I was going to pick popcorn,” Leenik admits as he settles the baseball cap on his head. “Do you think-”

“Unofficial?” Tryst repeats loudly from somewhere inside the house. “What does that even mean?”

“We should take care of that,” Bacta says, desert-dry.

“Yeah,” Leenik sighs. “Is he mad? He sounds mad.”

“He doesn’t get to be mad. Nobody gets to be angry during interventions.”

“Is that a rule?”

“It is now.” Bacta adjusts his cap and starts inside. Leenik follows him until they end up in the living room, where there are a dozen massive bowls of popcorn. Lyn is standing with her hands on her hips, and Tamlin is glaring stoutly up at Tryst.

Tryst turns to Leenik as he comes in, and he visibly relaxes, and Leenik’s brain chooses this moment to helpfully remind him that this is his  _ boyfriend _ now. “We’re doing an unofficial intervention?”

“It’s still an intervention,” Leenik points out. “It’s just, you know, less procedural, more of a conversation.”

“Which rules are we keeping?”

“No getting angry,” Bacta says immediately.

“Snacks and hats,” Tamlin adds.

“We can wing the rest,” Lyn suggests.

Tryst nods. “All right, first rule broken is gonna be the hotseat rule.”

“Hotseat?” Leenik repeats.

“Yeah, you know how normally you would sit by yourself while the rest of us intervene?” Tryst comes over and grabs Leenik’s wrist to tow him over to Bacta’s massive comfy couch. “None of that. We’re in this hotseat together.”

Leenik sits. Tryst sits next to him and hooks one of his ankles around Leenik’s.  _ Boyfriend, _ his brain shouts again, as if they’ve actually been on a date yet. “Uh. We can all sit down, right?”

“It’s less menacing if you sit,” Tryst advises. “Trust me, I’m feeling very menaced with you all staring down at us.”

Bacta and Lyn exchange a look before Lyn shrugs and goes to sit on the smaller, slightly less comfy couch. Bacta follows her and sits. Only Tamlin stays standing, baseball cap slightly askew, arms folded behind his back. “I get to run the intervention.”

“Okay,” Leenik says, because at least that means he has an excuse to skirt around some of the heavier things. “Go for it, bud.”

Tamlin clears his throat. “Uncle Leenik, we’re all gathered here today because you’ve been acting super weird, and we’re all worried about you. And also because I’m starting kindergarten in a couple of months, and that’s sort of scary, so I figure if we talk about you starting college we can also talk about me starting that, and it’s all going to be less scary for everyone. And because the lizards miss you, and afterwards you’re going to play with them. Do you have any clarifying questions?”

“Yes, I do.” Leenik leans forward. “If I get to visit your pets, do you get to visit Tony? Because I think he misses you too, and honestly, I haven’t spent a lot of time with him since we got back, and that’s frankly neglectful of me.”

“That depends on if Uncle Bacta lets me visit you,” Tamlin answer solemnly. “And also on how this intervention goes, because we could be here all day, but I do want to visit Tony.”

Leenik nods. “That seems fair to me.”

Tamlin glances at Bacta and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I get to add a twist now, right?”

“No, buddy, that’s dares,” Bacta whispers back.

“Oh! Right.” Tamlin turns back to Leenik. “Okay, uh, Uncle Leenik, now’s gonna be the part where we all tell you we’re worried. Does anyone want to go first?”

“I will,” Lyn offers. Leenik turns to her, and she leans forward, looking earnest. “Leenik, I appreciate that you want to continue your education, I think that’s a fantastic choice. But academia is stressful, and this is a big decision that you’re making about your future. It would be wise of you to talk to us about this, or to anyone, and get the support you’re going to need.”

“Can’t I ask you for support?”

Tryst nudges Leenik. “There’s no rebuttal portion in an intervention.”

“This is an unofficial intervention, I can fudge the rules if I want.”

“I think that’s up to our intervention master.”

Leenik looks at Tamlin. “Permission to rebut?”

Tamlin taps his chin. “Denied,” he says. “But only till the end of the concerns, and then you can rebut if you want before you dish.”

Lyn raises a hand. “Can I rebut his rebuttal? Just because it’s still related to my complaint.”

Tamlin gestures at her. “Proceed.”

“You can ask us for support at any time, and that has always been true.” Lyn points at Leenik. “But you don’t do it! You don’t ask us for help, which is why we are intervening in the first place.”

Leenik swallows. She’s completely right. “Noted. Tryst?”

“Yeah, I wanna second Lyn’s.” Tryst carefully jostles his foot against Leenik’s. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s wrong. Gotta unlock the door so we can open it.”

“I never lock my doors,” Leenik mumbles, a little nonsensically.

Tryst frowns. “Wait, do you really not lock your door? Can Tony not open doors?”

“Should pit bulls be able to open doors?”

“The lizards can’t get out,” Tamlin offers.

Leenik shakes his head. “That’s not the same, they’re too small to open doors. But Tony is a genius, I have to-”

“No leaving,” Bacta says quickly. “No leaving till we’re done intervening.”

“But what if he gets out?”

“He hasn’t gotten out yet, he won’t start now.”

Leenik sighs and settles in. “Fine.” Tryst pats his knee in consolation.

“Okay,” Tamlin says. “Um, Uncle Bacta asked to go last before he left and picked you up, so I’ll go now. Uncle Leenik, I’m worried about you because you looked really sad when we met Miss Chartreuse yesterday, and you don’t normally look that sad. And I don’t like it when you’re sad, okay?”

Leenik takes a deep breath. It still feels like Chartreuse is next to him, saying  _ there has to be a better way. _ When he speaks, his voice is steadier than he thought he could manage. “Thank you, Tamlin. Bacta?”

“I picked you up from a cemetery,” Bacta says, simple as that. “And you’re not answering our questions.”

“Thank you, Uncle Bacta,” Tamlin says. “Okay, Uncle Leenik, if you wanna rebut now, you can do that, and if not, it’s time to dish.”

“I don’t have a rebuttal,” Leenik says. His voice sounds far away. “What’s the next part?”

“Next is where you dish. So, uh…” Tamlin blinks at him. “Dish?”

And it sounds like Grizelle, and for a second Leenik is in Phoenix with Grizelle painting his nails, telling him to dish about a pretty boy. And it sounds like Aava, and he never knew if she picked that up from Grizelle or the other way around, but they both say it the same way.  _ Dish _ . And it’s Tamlin, most of all. This kid that Leenik would do anything for. His family.

And it’s not something he means to say, really, but he hears himself say anyways, “I had an older brother who died before I met you guys, and it was maybe my fault, and I’m kind of still fucked up about it.”

There are a few seconds of perfect stillness - not even silence, but a lack of motion, of any signs of life. Leenik opens his mouth to say something to deflect - not that there’s really much to say, but he can’t live with this  _ nothing _ \- when Tryst takes his right hand carefully and squeezes. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it so much that Leenik almost starts crying.

“Leenik,” Bacta says, distress radiating off of him in waves, “I’m so s-”

“You don’t have to,” Leenik says raggedly. “I mean, really, I hated that part, all the people who kept trying to say  _ sorry. _ Like they had anything to be sorry for.”

Tamlin bolts forward, in motion all at once, and climbs on the couch, and then onto Leenik’s lap. His arms go around Leenik’s neck, and he buries his face in one shoulder. “I’m not letting go till you’re not sad anymore,” he says, voice muffled.

Leenik huffs out a laugh. It’s harder than he thought it would be. “That might take a while, Tama.”

“Then I’ll stay here a while,” Tamlin answers, and then Bacta’s settling on the couch next to him, and there’s a heavy arm resting on Leenik’s shoulders. And Lyn is on Bacta’s other side, reaching out and resting a hand on Leenik’s knee.

And Leenik thinks, despite everything,  _ I’m home. _

“We, uh.” He swallows. “We didn’t grow up great, him and me. Venton. He was older than me, he practically raised me. He worked full time but I had a side business going. I could fix computers. And Chartreuse could too. They were dating, back then. And we-” he chokes back a sob, and immediately every hand and arm around him tightens, and he feels entirely, immutably safe. “I still barely know what happened, but I think we fixed up some computers for a gang or a mob or something. And I guess the rival gang or mob or whatever didn’t like that, because they sent someone after us. After me.”

“Oh, Leenik,” Lyn murmurs. She had a brother too, one that she almost never talks about. One who only exists in the past tense, in stories about childhood in the south of France and happy days that have long since passed. She sounds like she knows. Like she understands.

Leenik uses the hand that Tryst isn’t holding to pat her hand absently before rubbing Tamlin’s back in small, soothing circles. Tamlin is shaking. That can’t be good. “And, uh. They kicked down our apartment door and shot the first person they saw, which turned out to be… Venton. I didn’t know what to do, so I just stayed with him. Sat down on the floor and held his hand.” He’s crying now, he can feel it, but it doesn’t feel like the tears are on his face. It barely feels like anything. “He told me, he said, ‘Leenik, one day everybody’s gonna know your name.’ I guess he was right.”

“He was right,” Tryst repeats. He’s clutching Leenik’s hand so hard that Leenik’s fingers are going numb. His ankle is still hooked around Leenik’s.

“God, Leenik,” Bacta says, voice thick. “Who else have you talked to about this?”

“Aava. We were both kind of drunk when it happened, I didn’t think she’d remember.” Leenik sighs. “She remembered.”

“And that’s why she was trying to get you to talk to us,” Bacta says, something dawning in his voice. Leenik hopes that it’s something about Aava. It’d be nice if they understood each other better. “Oh, buddy.”

“But I’m working on it,” Leenik tries. He thinks everyone can tell that he’s lying, judging by the wave of sadness that ripples across them all. “I mean, this… this intervention is something, right? Progress. I’m getting better.”

“You are,” Lyn says tentatively. “I think… this is something that none of us are qualified to unpack, but if you want to talk about it, you’re welcome to talk to me any time. I’ve lost a brother, Bacta’s lost brothers, Tryst-”

“I haven’t,” Tryst says quietly. “But I’m here anyways.”

Leenik clenches his fingers around Tryst’s hand. “I don’t want this to be your burden. Any of yours.”

“We don’t want it to be yours either,” Bacta answers, and Leenik feels the tears redouble in his eyes. “We don’t have to talk about this any more, but we can help you find a therapist, if you’d like.”

“Does Aava count?”

“Aava does not count.” Bacta sighs. “But I’m glad you have her anyways.”

Leenik nods jerkily, chin bumping against Tamlin’s shoulder. “We can… what was the other part of the intervention? What else?”

“University,” Lyn says. Her hand on Leenik’s knee relaxes, and she starts rubbing circles with her thumb. “That’s a stressful environment to enter, or to re-enter, especially after seven years.”

“Aava suggested community college.”

“That may be a good entry point. Dip your toes back into the water, see if this is what you want.”

Leenik considers briefly saying that Venton always had a college fund set aside. Most of what he made at work was funneled directly into rent and food, maybe the most important things that their money could go towards, but some of it was for Leenik to go to college. And most of what Leenik made went to that fund, too. But he already knows that saying that would mean crying more, and not just him crying, either, and that’s too much to deal with today. He’s already dealt with too much.

“I think it’s what I want,” Leenik says. “I think- I don’t need to know, right?”

“Of course not.” Lyn leans in so she’s closer to Leenik’s line of sight. “We’ll be here whether or not you know.”

Leenik nods. “That’s all the dishing I can do today.”

“I don’t think we could ask for anything else,” Tryst mutters. His grip on Leenik’s hand relaxes fractionally; Leenik doesn’t bother loosening his own hand. “But since we’re doing unofficial procedures, I’d like to add a group hug here, minimum time two minutes.”

“I think I can live with that.” Leenik’s throat is raw, and he swallows a couple times. “Tama? You doing okay?”

Tamlin, face still firmly buried in Leenik’s neck, shakes his head, wiping his tears in the process.

“You don’t have to worry about me, okay? Uncle Leenik’s going to be just fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Tamlin lets out a long breath. “I’m still not letting go.”

Bacta’s arm pulls tighter across his shoulders. Tryst shifts until his head is against Leenik’s free shoulder, near Bacta’s hand. Lyn starts rubbing small circles on his knee. Leenik adjusts his hold on Tamlin and thinks about Venton’s hand slipping out of his, blood-slick, and about how this is the only family he has now.

“I’m not letting go either,” he says, and he doesn’t for a long time.

 

#

 

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids

Setting up for our final touring show. We can’t say it enough, but we’ll start now: thank you for everything. pic.twitter.com/8wlduz93

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

Thank you @themynockband for inviting us and letting us perform and travel with you for two whole months.

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

(Thank you especially to Tamlin, the best stage assistant and videographer we could’ve asked for.)

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

And thank you to every single fan who showed up. Couldn’t be here without you.

**wildcard kids.** @wildcardkids   
Replying to @wildcardkids

Los Angeles, you’re our last show. Get ready.

 

#

 

**Lyntel Luroon** @lluroon

Tonight is @themynockband’s final show of the tour. Who’s going to be there?

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @lluroon

me

**Lyntel Luroon** @lluroon   
Replying to @themynockleenik

And how long have you been a fan of the band?

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @lluroon

uh since we were in a dorm room in Phoenix

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @lluroon

actually shout out to @aava our real first fan

**Aava Arek** @aava   
Replying to @themynockleenik @lluroon

I don’t think I had much of a choice. It was my dorm room.

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @aava @lluroon

Aava please don’t ruin this

**Lyntel Luroon** @lluroon   
Replying to @themynockleenik @aava

Please ruin this. Please tell me all of the stories about this band seven years ago.

**Aava Arek** @aava   
Replying to @lluroon @themynockleenik

We should do lunch sometime. It’ll be great.

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @aava @lluroon

@themynockbacta please help

**Bacta** @themynockbacta   
Replying to @themynockleenik @aava @lluroon

I think you brought this one on yourself.

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockbacta @aava @lluroon

no I definitely did that was never the question I just need help getting out of it

**Aava Arek** @aava   
Replying to @themynockleenik @themynockbacta @lluroon

Lyn, I’ll just catch up with you next time I see you.

**Lyntel Luroon** @lluroon   
Replying to @aava @themynockleenik @themynockbacta

I’m looking forward to it.

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @lluroon @aava @themynockbacta

no

 

#

 

**Mynock Tour Clips** @mynockclips

Tonight’s final tour clip is from the encore: the band’s first hit. GALAXY. twitter.com/themynockband/status/271490302876

**Mynock Tour Clips** @mynockclips   
Replying to @mynockclips

Thank you @themynockband for a FANTASTIC tour, and thank you @neemosparks for filming all the clips! See you all next tour <3

**Neimoidian Sparks** @neemosparks   
Replying to @mynockclips

<3!

 

#

 

**The Mynock** @themynockband

Tour two done. See you all soon.

 

#

 

The minute the curtain is down, Tryst is striding over towards Leenik, setting his bass down as he goes. Leenik barely has time to set down his own guitar before Tryst plants a hand on either side of his face and kisses him, so hard he has to stagger back a couple of steps. He braces himself with his hands on Tryst’s shoulders, and Tryst is smiling so wide that he has to pull away after a couple of seconds and switch to a hug, laughing right in Leenik’s ear.

Leenik can’t fight down his own grin as he hugs Tryst back. The adrenaline is still pumping, a lot more potent than Leenik expected, and everything feels sharp. Clear.

“We did it!” Tryst shouts. Leenik can barely hear it but it sends a shiver through him anyways. “We did it!”

“And nobody even lost an arm,” Leenik manages, and Tryst laughs even harder at that. And then something hits him from one side and grabs on, squeezing his legs. It takes Leenik a second to realize it’s Tamlin. Leenik automatically lowers one hand to press against Tamlin’s back, and then Bacta’s there, and Lyn, and they’re all knotted together on the stage, just breathing. Just breathing.

“I love you guys,” Leenik says, after what could be seconds or minutes. He loses track, sometimes, with his family all around him.

“Love you too,” Tryst says instantly.

“You are all-” Lyn breaks off, and Leenik reaches a hand towards her blindly, and she grabs it. “You are a better family than I knew I could ever have.”

“And you’re a part of that family,” Bacta reminds her. “Lyn, we couldn’t do this without you. We love you.”

“I love you all,” Lyn says, and her voice cracks. “I do.”

“You’re the best uncles,” Tamlin says, voice muffled by Leenik’s knee. “And I love you, and I know you’re gonna help me with school, and with the lizards, and I know we all live really close but I’m going to miss living with you guys in the bus because I love you a lot.”

“We love you too, buddy,” Tryst murmurs, and Tamlin curls a little further in towards them. “And we might be a phone call away now, but that’s still close, and we’d still do anything to be there for you, got it? That goes for all of us.”

“All of us,” Leenik repeats. “We watch each other’s backs, okay?”

“We’re a family, Tama,” Bacta says, and Leenik feels that all the way in his fucking bones. “Whatever comes next, we’re a family.”

Tamlin sniffs loudly. “Can we have a tour in Europe?”

“We can’t bring the lizards to Europe,” Bacta points out.

Lyn pulls back enough to shoot Bacta a strange look. “You can have lizards in Europe.”

“I’m not going to be responsible for intercontinental lizard travel.”

“I can be responsible for it!” Tamlin protests. “I can be in charge of the lizards! They’ll be fine!”

“Europe is a long way away, that’s a lot of responsibility.”

“But I can do it!”

“Do you think I could bring Tony to Europe?” Leenik wonders aloud. “Pit bulls can go on planes, right? He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“He might hurt the lizards,” Tamlin says, distressed. He breaks away from Leenik’s leg and the knot untangles at last, everyone stepping back just barely, and Tamlin glares up at Leenik. “You can’t let Tony near the lizards.”

“You can’t let the lizards near Tony. They upset him.”

“He upsets them too!”

“He does try to eat them,” Tryst murmurs. Leenik shoots him a betrayed look, but Tryst is smiling, a tiny, nearly invisible smile, like he can’t help it. It’s impossible to stay mad at that. “We’d have to keep them separate.”

“Either way, we’re not going to Europe until after we take a break,” Lyn says, in a tone that brooks no argument. “Europe or Asia, either of them.”

Tamlin gasps. “Uncle Bacta, can we go to Asia? Or Australia? Or Canada?”

“We can go to Canada on a long weekend,” Bacta says. Leenik can pinpoint the exact moment he realizes he shouldn’t have said that; it’s the same moment that Tamlin’s eyes nearly pop out of his head with excitement.

“I would go to Canada,” Lyn offers, ignoring the frantic look Bacta gives her. “It would be nice to be somewhere that speaks French.”

Tamlin nods. “Uncle Lyn, can you teach me French sometime?”

Lyn smiles. “ _ Peut-être, ma petite chou, mais pas encore. _ ”

“Does that mean yes?” Tamlin fixes his eyes on Leenik, then Tryst, then Bacta. “Did she say yes?”

“I said maybe,” Lyn admits. “But before anything else we need to help pack up the venue, I think we’ve waited long enough.”

“I will lead the charge on packing,” Tryst says, like it’s a noble responsibility and not something he’s unofficially banned from doing.

“No,” Lyn and Bacta say in unison.

Tryst rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’ll hang out with Tamlin while you guys do the hard physical labor.”

“That’s the way we like it,” Bacta says dryly. Tryst rolls his eyes again. “Leenik, are you loading buses?”

“I think so.” Leenik takes a step towards Bacta.

Tryst’s hand shoots out and grabs him by the wrist. “Wait, before you go-” he tugs Leenik around so they’re facing one another. Leenik realizes what’s about to happen right before Tyst cups the back of Leenik’s head and pulls him in, and then Tryst’s lips are on his again. He’s kissing like he’s being careful, like he’s trying to go slowly, and that’s enough to make Leenik’s heart skip a beat or two.

“We need to go on an actual date,” Leenik says when he pulls away, just a little breathless. “All three of us. We should figure that out.”

Bacta coughs. “Time and a place.”

Leenik frowns. “Why not here and now?”

“Bus loading?”

“I think we can put off the conversation till we can talk to Aava,” Tryst says, amused, but he ducks in for one more kiss. “Go on, we’ll work it out later.”

“We’ll work it out later,” Leenik repeats. And weirdly enough, he thinks they actually can.

 

#

 

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik

our final guerilla film: Tamlin insisted on telling Tryst a bedtime story pic.twitter.com/a8k3l2hf

**Leenik Geelo** @themynockleenik   
Replying to @themynockleenik

the countdown’s over. and so is the tour. good night, LA. good night, world. till we meet again.


	6. Epilogue

The tour wrap party is in a karaoke bar.

This isn’t because everyone wanted a karaoke bar; quite the opposite. Tryst wanted a bowling alley. Leenik had fought, tooth and nail, for mini-golf. Tamlin wanted to rent out a zoo, and so Bacta was trying to talk him out of that. And in the midst of all the shouting and distress, Jane had looked at Lyn sideways and said “My cousin works at a karaoke bar,” and Lyn had jumped on that and planned the wrap party.

(“Singers,” Tryst snorted when he found out. “All that ego. You just want to show off.”

“There’ll be alcohol,” Jane said. “Like, a lot of it.”

Tryst sighed. “I can probably live with you guys showing off.)

It’s a small party, about as intimate as a party in a back room of a crowded karaoke bar can be, but Lyn suspects that they all prefer it that way. As far as rock stars go, she seems to have found the most insular bunch. No special guests, nothing over the top, just them and some karaoke.

About an hour in, Lyn is tipsy bordering drunk and alone on one of the couches, watching Leenik and Neemo warble their way through something she doesn’t recognize as Tryst and Aava cheer them on. She takes a sip of whiskey and when she lowers her glass, Tamlin plops down next to her. She smiles. “Hello, Tamlin.”

“Hi, Uncle Lyn,” Tamlin not-quite-chirps.

Lyn frowns. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” Tamlin turns and frowns at her. “I mean, maybe? I have a question.”

“What is your question?”

“It’s not for you.”

“Who is it for?”

“It’s for…” his frown deepens. “Can I practice on you?”

“Go ahead.”

Tamlin clears his throat. “I wanna call Uncle Bacta my dad.”

Lyn blinks a couple of times. “And you’re worried about asking him?”

“Kind of? I think he’d say yes, but-” Tamlin looks away. “I know you never knew Mom, but I never really did either. And I know she loves me, I’ve seen all the old videos, but Uncle Bacta’s the one taking care of me, right?”

“Right.”

“So it makes sense, and he’s my godfather so it makes  _ double _ sense, but I’ve never done it before, and I’m worried about starting.”

Lyn takes a deep breath and stops herself from what she was about to say. The fact is, Tamlin called Bacta “Dad” for the first time three days ago, while he was sleepy and not quite sure of what he was saying. Lyn knows this because Bacta had called her almost immediately afterwards, tripping over his words trying to explain what had happened. It’d taken nearly forty minutes to talk him down, not from hysterics but from the fear of fully realizing he’s a parent.

“Okay,” Lyn says, and leans over to set her glass on the floor. “Why are you worried?”

Tamlin climbs into Lyn’s lap and looks up at her, chewing his bottom lip nervously. “If he says no, what does that mean?”

“It means that he’s still your uncle and you’re still his Tamlin.”

“And if he says yes, what does  _ that _ mean?”

“It means that he’s your dad.”

Tamlin takes a deep breath and says, all in a rush, “And what if it’s too much to ask for?”

Lyn lifts a hand to the back of Tamlin’s head and lowers her own head so that they’re eye to eye, almost nose to nose. “Tamlin,” she says seriously.

“Yeah?” Tamlin barely whispers.

“Bacta would give you anything you asked for if he could. He loves you. We all do, but he is your godfather, and your uncle, and you are his entire world.” She lowers her forehead further so it’s against Tamlin’s. He blinks at her. “Do you know how he spent breakfast on Monday morning when he and I went out together?”

“No?”

“He and I were researching TSA rules about pets on planes to see if you could take the lizards to Europe.” And Lyn had been researching good ways to teach children French, but she can’t share that yet. That’s his Christmas present. Or at least part of it.

Tamlin gasps. “Really?”

“Really.”

“All of them?”

“If we can figure out how.”

“But what if we can’t?”

“Then we’ll figure out something else.  _ He’ll _ figure out something else.” She smiles. “This is what I mean, Tamlin, do you understand?”

“Understand what?”

“He’d do anything for you. You are the most important thing in his life.” Lyn lifts her other hand and pulls back just enough to tap Tamlin’s nose; he wrinkles it and grins. “You are his family.”

“You are, too,” Tamlin insists.

Lyn pauses. She lost her brother when she was young, and her father, and she was never close with her mother. The Kaiburr Crystals had been her friends, and nothing beyond that. She never had much in the way of family. But this - she lives with Tryst, and she and Leenik have an unofficial wine club, and she was the one Bacta called when he needed advice. Even Neemo is always there to talk about books, or Aava to talk about the band. And there’s Tamlin. Her nephew.

“I am,” she agrees, voice thicker than she expected. “We all are. But you most of all, Tamlin. And he will not have a problem if you talk to him about this.”

“You sure?”

(Bacta had asked, when he called, if he should bring it up first. Lyn had said no almost immediately. “Because you can’t pressure him into it,” she’d explained. “If he believes this is something that you want, you run the risk of him mixing up those motivations. It needs to be something that he wants as well.”

“I know,” Bacta sighed. “I just… I do want this. I really do, Lyn.”)

Lyn smiles. “I’m sure.”

Tamlin’s face breaks into a wide, earsplitting grin. His eyes are shining. “Thank you, Uncle Lyn! You give good advice.”

“You’re welcome, Tama,” Lyn laughs. “You listen to advice very well.”

“Only the good advice.” Tamlin pulls away and turns back around so that he’s facing the karaoke stage.

Lyn rests her chin on Tamlin’s head and looks around. Her eyes land on Bacta almost immediately, sitting on another couch across the room, definitely watching them both. She smiles. “Can we invite Bacta to come sit with us?”

Tamlin nods excitedly, jostling Lyn’s chin in the process. He lifts a hand and motions over at Bacta frantically, something that Lyn doesn’t understand. Bacta clearly does, judging by the way he smiles and gets to his feet. When he gets to the couch, he picks Lyn’s whiskey glass up off the ground and hands it to her.

Lyn smiles. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Bacta sits down next to her, shoulder pressed against hers. “What are you guys talking about?”

“I’m afraid I spoiled a surprise,” Lyn says, before Tamlin has the opportunity to get nervous. “I told him about the lizard research.”

Bacta groans. “We weren’t going to tell him yet!”

“I know, I know, it just came up in conversation.”

“But it’s good news!” Tamlin bounces in Lyn’s lap. “It’s the best news!”

“Yeah?” Bacta smiles. “Well, then I’m glad you heard it.”

“Me too.”

“Lyn!” someone yells. When she looks up at the stage, Pliff is gesturing at her impatiently. “It’s your turn!”

“I have Tamlin,” she calls back. “I’ll go twice later.”

“You’re ruining the order!”

Lyn throws an arm around Tamlin’s waist and pulls him in protectively. Tamlin shrieks and giggles. “You can’t make me give him up!”

“Fine!” Pliff rolls his eyes and looks around. Clearly, his options aren’t good: Neemo is talking to an employee, and Tryst, Aava, and Leenik are all lying on top of one another on one of the couches, tangled together. He looks at the rest of his band. “Wanna go again?”

“If no one else is,” Hessa says.

Jane points at Bacta. “You!”

“Me?” Bacta points at himself. “No way.”

“Come on, do a solo!”

“Absolutely not, Jane.”

Tamlin gasps. “Oh, Uncle Bacta, please, please, can you sing something?”

Lyn can see the mental switch that flips in Bacta’s head, from “I don’t want to “ to “Tamlin wants me to.” It’s almost magical how fast he transforms. Just like that, he nods determinedly. “I can sing something for you, buddy, let me go see what they have.”

“Have fun,” Lyn says, patting his hand. Bacta threads his fingers through hers, just long enough to give her pause, and then he’s on his feet, striding towards the stage with more determination than Lyn expected.

“I should’ve suggested a song,” Tamlin says sadly.

Lyn smiles. “I’m sure he’ll pick something you’ll like.”

“Yeah, he will.” Tamlin bounces a little more. “Uncle Lyn?”

“Yes, Tamlin.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And also Uncle Bacta can’t sing, but we have to clap for him anyways, okay? It’s important.”

Lyn laughs. Bacta, from where he’s picking a song, glances over at her, and she grins at him. “We can do that.”

“Okay,” Tamlin says, as Bacta makes his way to the stage. “Have you ever heard him sing?”

“Only once or twice.”

“Get ready.”

Bacta grabs the microphone. The music starts playing. Lyn smiles. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Good.” Tamlin settles in on Lyn’s lap. Bacta opens his mouth to sing. Lyn’s face splits into a grin. “Because here we go!”

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me about rock bands, good music, found families, and the star war on [Tumblr](http://waveridden.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/waveridden) (I'm @waveridden on both)
> 
> this fic also has [a Pinterest board!](https://www.pinterest.com/waveridden/au-venus) (you can also follow me there. there are a lot of flowers and neon signs.)
> 
> The response to this fic was absolutely fantastic. I can't thank you guys enough for reading and commenting/messaging/even just saying in the tags that you enjoyed it. It was a delight to write and I hope it was just as fun to read. See you guys next fic! <3


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